


An Unblinking Love

by SirChiefDoodle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dany is Daeron, F/F, F/M, Fem!Jon, Female Jon Snow, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon is Joanna, Jonerys, Male Daenerys Targaryen, Other, Romance, Smut, male!dany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirChiefDoodle/pseuds/SirChiefDoodle
Summary: She was the bastard daughter of Ned Stark who rose up and became Queen in the North and he was the Father of Dragons who broke the chains of the downtrodden. Now at the height of their powers, they need to come together in order to reshape Westeros.This is the tale of Joanna Snow and Daeron Targaryen.
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen/Doreah(past mentioned), Daenerys Targaryen/Missandei(past mentioned), Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Robb Stark(past mentioned), Jon Snow/Val(past mentioned)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 565





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leonora01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonora01/gifts), [mywishingglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywishingglass/gifts), [prussianblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prussianblues/gifts).



> Hey there.
> 
> I have been reading some fantastic stories on a Female Jon and a Male Dany, so I decided to write my own. Let me know what you think

**Sansa**

Envy.

It’s the one feeling she never thought she would ever have when it came to her elder sister.

She would admit that when they were younger, there was the occasional petty jealousy. Her sister had always been pretty and often Sansa would make taunts unbeknownst to her sister about her being a bastard but deep down she suspected Joanna always knew.

Growing up she had never been close to Joanna and always made sure to keep her distance, whether it was to please her mother or the fact that father and Robb favored Joanna more than they did her.

They only interacted when it came to their lessons on how to be a proper lady in which Sansa had her beat by a mile. Joanna’s interests always lay on the more manly aspects.

She mainly enjoyed swordplay, archery and riding. Something that made Arya and Joanna close but never with her.

Their relationship was always fraught and she hadn’t even remembered the last time she had seen her sister before she left Winterfell. Sansa had been so happy to see Arya miserable for them parting from her precious Joanna, for that sisterly bond that Sansa could never have with either of them. She had also been happy at the time that she would become Joffery’s queen.

Looking back those were foolish thoughts that had led to her suffering. The signs were there particularly when she regarded Joffery’s family.

She remembered that day in the courtyard when Joanna was sparring with Robb and beating him as per usual with Arya cheering her on gleefully. Joffery had sneered at her brother and he claimed that someone as pretty as Joanna should not be carrying a weapon.

Things escalated from there and soon Joanna was sparring with Joffery when she struck him down. The whole situation almost turned ugly with Joanna receiving the blunt of the blame but King Robert let it go and laughed it off, though she would never forget the look Robert had given her sister.

It’s the same look Littlefinger would give her.

It was one of the first signs of her fairytale slipping, that knights weren’t as gallant as she thought they would be, that princes could be vindictive and downright cruel.

It’s a tale that brought her from the hell of Kings Landing to the uncertainty of the Vale then to the wall and on to Winterfell back at her home.

Baelish had been planning on marrying her off to either Lord Hardyng or Lord Bolton’s son Ramsay. Sansa wanted to refuse both and was ready to expose his part in her aunt’s death but then they heard the news of Joanna who had somehow amassed an army of Wildlings and a few of Robb’s loyalists.

It was quite an incredible tale and one that led them to capturing Winterfell.

While Sansa was under constant torment of the Lannisters. Joanna had led a different path.

Joanna had told her that after she had constantly tried to plead with father to let her marry a minor lord and find her a husband before he left for the Capital.

Father had refused and he claimed that Joanna’s mother’s ghost would haunt him for eternity if he did that. Joanna had told her that was when she knew her mother had not actually lived and Sansa felt a semblance of sadness for her sister for her never knowing who her mother was.

Joanna had tried to plead her case to Robb claiming that she could not stay in the same house as Sansa’s mother who despised her.

In retrospect, Sansa could identify Robb’s intentions as they were, Joanna had assumed Robb had refused her because he was trying to protect Joanna as a brother but that had not been the case at all.

When her father had been imprisoned. Joanna told her that she rode with Robb to see them all free. Sansa assumed that she would want to see father and Arya free though, she doubted her sister held her in that much regard even if she claimed she rode for all of them.

She had heard of the battle in the Whispering Wood. Joanna had always been a capable swordsman she knew but she had never known how good. Apparently Joanna had disobeyed Robb’s orders and entered the battle. Sansa was sure Robb would have been upset but Joanna had apparently slain many a man on the battlefield and she was the one that had defeated and stopped Jaimie who was renowned to be godly with a blade.

Joanna shrugged it off and claimed that maybe now she would be able to fight with him cleanly because she had vastly improved with the sword. But she claimed that when she fought Jaimie, the Kingslayer had actually beaten Joanna when they dueled but he accidentally slipped in the mud before he could give her the killing blow and Joanna used Ghost to level him down.

Though that is not what their men sang.

It was a great boon for them to capture the Kingslayer and Joanna had become one of Robb’s fiercest warriors, claiming bodies and even mustering enough respect to become one of Robb’s battle commanders by helping him win numerous battles.

But as things were looking up for House Stark for once, things had to turn for the worse.

Her mother couldn’t tolerate Joanna’s presence. Sansa knew that her mother disliked the girl for obvious reasons but she never thought it was hatred. Joanna was obviously beautiful, more so even now. Arya during their lessons had once bemoaned how she wished that she would age into becoming a beauty like Joanna whilst still being able to fight. Sansa always scoffed with Jeyne that Arya would never become that, it was an extremely petty action born out of jealousy and Joanna quickly reprimanded them for it before reassuring Arya and telling her that she was already beautiful.

The both of them had shared the same coloring, the Stark coloring. But Joanna was different; her features were more striking and captivating. Her figure enticing. On deductive reasoning alone you could easily conclude that if Joanna was beautiful then her mother was probably otherworldly.

It would make sense why Sansa’s mother would be put off by the girl’s presence because she had clearly gotten her beauty from her mother. And though she understood her mother’s insecurities, the events that transpired between Joanna, Robb and her mother always left Sansa puzzled.

Robb had fallen in love with Joanna which was a surprise to Sansa at the time. But looking back, the signs were always there, the longing looks that Robb would always throw Joanna’s way, ones that Sansa just played off as him favoring her over all their other siblings.

The way he would always be aggressive to Theon who lusted after Joanna and would make a snide comment about how she should be his salt wife instead of a bastard.

How Robb constantly refused to wed her off during the war. Even when it came to House Frey, he gave Arya’s hand but refused to give their bastard sister.

Robb had always fancied her and that fancy turned into love. To the point that Robb wanted to make her his Queen.

Sansa had tried to ask Joanna if the rumors were true and even more pressingly, if Joanna had been in love with Robb herself.

Joanna had clenched her jaw and she had the same look that she had when she beat Ramsay within an inch of his life.

There were rumors that they had coupled. Joanna and Robb. Sansa had no inkling if they were true but given the way her hand drifted down to her stomach subconsciously, she started to suspect they were true.

Rumor had it that she had even been pregnant with his babe but the babe never lived.

Her mother had caught wind of their coupling and the infighting was incessant, her mother protesting that their bannermen would abandon them if they found that brother and sister were lying together. The fighting was so bad that it got to the point that when the opportunity presented itself, Joanna chose to ride back North as Robb continued his campaign.

Joanna had gone back to find Bran and Rickon who at the time were assumed dead despite Joanna’s disbelief.

Her departure had broken something in Robb and Catelyn tried to use it as a moment to honor the marriage pact with the Freys.

Robb was willing to relent but then he had heard news that Joanna might have been with child and before the negotiations could begin again, Robb refused and offered up their uncle Edmure instead.

Sansa knew that the Frey family had already betrayed them way before the meeting but she always wondered what would have happened if Robb had said yes and not declared that he would marry Joanna, who would be his queen by marriage or in the events of his death would become queen as his heir, with him having legitimized her in front of witnesses.

Their bannermen despite the respect they held for Joanna weren’t entirely accepting of this conundrum.

That is how Robb and her mother died, at the hands of the Lannisters, Boltons and the Freys.

Joanna had managed to reach Winterfell but by the time she had arrived she had been ambushed by Ramsay.

Joanna managed to fight as hard as she could but she suffered a blow that supposedly caused her to miscarry. Something Ramsay had been happy to remind them about when they parlayed before they took back Winterfell.

Joanna had not reacted so Sansa assumed they were just rumors but the way she had been pummeling Ramsay and screaming with rage when she took Winterfell, it indicated that there may have been truth to her carrying Robb’s child.

Joanna was dealt a blow by Ramsay’s forces but thankfully she had managed to escape and made her way to Castle Black just a few moments before Robb would reach the Twins.

Joanna who was still wounded had heard that Bran and Rickon were beyond the wall but she still prodded along with the meager amount of men that had been slaughtered by Ramsay. Joanna claimed that she sent a raven to Robb warning him that if Ramsay had been acting against her then it meant that Roose had betrayed him.

Joanna stubbornly rode out beyond the wall to the Haunted Forest in search of their brothers but her wounds proved more nefarious than they appeared and she was lucky to have been found by a Wildling man.

Val was a handsome bright blue eyed man with blonde hair, the son of Mance Rayder the former king beyond the wall.

Sansa knew that Joanna had taken him as a lover though Joanna never really denied it.

Joanna herself claimed that she had used him to get over her grief of Robb and the feeling of being alone in the world had been to unbearable.

Val had tended to her wounds and introduced her to the Wildlings or Free-Folk as they were called.

From then on Joanna negotiated with the Nights Watch to settle them at the Gift.

She had placed various conditions on them. Making alliances with marriages to the Northmen that secretly came to proclaim her as queen after they lost their King at the red wedding. Joanna even took the children of the Wildlings as collateral should they disobey any of her rules.

This was all ruined when Stannis arrived at the wall. Wanting to undo all the progress Joanna had made.

Stannis wanted her to bend the knee to him, something Joanna would not do.

The Wildlings always claimed that she refused because she was one of them now but Sansa knew better. It was because of Robb.

They managed to keep peace amicably despite Joanna refusing to kneel for him and fight for him, Sansa was sure that was mainly because of Ser Davos who had convinced Stannis that if he had taken Winterfell and proclaimed it towards Joanna then she would in turn be loyal to him.

Joanna had admitted to her that she never would bend the knee for any king and instead focused on making sure that she could bring all the Wildlings south of the border. She had been successful in bringing in up to twenty thousand people but that was only a portion of them and more had settled in Hardhome. Where Lyanna encountered the Others.

It was even more vindication for what she was doing but certain men in the Nights Watch saw it differently.

Joanna had lost her life and Sansa would have doubted her but the scars in her chest was all the proof she needed to know her sister was being truthful.

Luckily for them, the red woman brought her back.

The Free-Folk they had managed to bring beyond the wall saw her differently now. Even the Northern Lords saw her differently.

She was now some sort of God to them.

A god that had up to fifteen thousand wildlings able to fight for her and up to three thousand northmen.

Littlefinger caught wind of this and decided that they use her armies to retake Winterfell and save Rickon.

Sansa had agreed and had finally seen her for the first time at Castle Black and honestly she felt joy at seeing her sister once again.

She had asked Joanna when they would strike but Joanna was hesitant claiming they needed to man the wall because of the real threat. That wasn’t until Sansa unveiled that Ramsay had just become Warden of the North and he held Rickon

Rage splattered in her sister’s eyes when she heard of Ramsay again and that was the only prodding needed as they made their way North.

Sansa had not told her of the Knights of the Vale, partly because she didn’t trust Littlefinger and also the fact that if Ramsay by some miracle had gotten the better of them then the Knights of the Vale who rode for her would save the day.

In hindsight it was a silly move.

Joanna had used her forces as a way of showing Ramsay that he was hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched.

But Ramsay held Rickon and he had Winterfell to keep him safe.

Even despite the fact that Joanna had giants and mammoths amassed in her forces, if she made one wrong move then Ramsay would have killed their brother.

Joanna wanted to use her forces not to intimidate Ramsay who was dead either way but to scare his men into surrender. If she had brought all nine thousand of the Vale forces then it would have sent a more deadlier message and perhaps Rickon might have been saved.

Joanna had used secret tunnels that she used with Arya when they were young and snuck in men to sneak up on Ramsay and grab Rickon before they stormed the castle.

But to their dismay Ramsay had poisoned Rickon; apparently he had tried to kill him way before that but the generals in his army had stopped Ramsay.

Joanna had lambasted her and stated that had she known that the Vale was riding for their brother then she would have planned it differently.

It didn’t matter in the end though.

As Joanna pummeled Ramsay, two bastards and one beaten beyond recognition to the point of death before she sent him to the wall for her experiment.

Joanna had been sending dead bodies with scouts beyond the wall and the moment they animated, they would bring them back.

When she had seen the evidence, she gasped and Sansa’s world had changed and perhaps that was the exact moment when she was more on her sister’s side.

That did not stop the envy though.

As everyone fell to bend the knee and proclaim her as Queen in the North.

It was a strange irony.

How she had always been trained to be a lady or a queen and her sister as nothing but a pretty bastard and yet in the end Joanna was queen with men willing to die for her.

She truly envied her sister.

But despite all the bitter feelings that she would never let bubble up.

Sansa also loved Joanna.

It was hard not to.

Currently they sat in her father’s solar discussing her sister’s intended meeting with the Targaryen King.

It was her, Joanna, Brienne, Davos, Littlefinger, Lord Royce, Tormund, Val and both her uncles Edmure and the Blackfish.

It was a strange assortment of people but together it united the true North, the North, the Vale and a defeated Riverlands.

Amassing forces of up to thirty thousand all following her sister’s cause.

One powerful enough to take over the seven kingdoms. Something Littlefinger would constantly whisper into her ear hoping to tempt her.

Joanna held the four letters.

‘Seems as if you’re a popular person my queen’ Davos stated with a quirky smile.

Joanna let out a small grin highlighting how breathtaking she was before her sister leveled herself and become more solemn and serious.

‘Two proposals, a request and a threat, it almost makes me yearn for the days when I was but a bastard and no one cared who I was’ Joanna’s voice was stern and husky, Sansa had noted.

A voice that demanded attention. With her warrior pose and her sword Longclaw which she had found when she journeyed into the haunted forest.

Sansa had read over the letters.

The first was a letter written by Ser Barristan who was hand of the king. Claiming that he served Daeron Targaryen, son of Aerys. And that the man wanted them to meet near the neck to discuss an alliance between the two and to see her sister bend the knee to him as the rightful King of all the seven kingdoms.

The second was a proposal by Aegon Targaryen, a man thought dead who claimed to be alive. This Aegon wanted her sister’s hand.

Curiously enough Baelish had suggested that Sansa wed Daeron and her sister wed Aegon. He suggested that Aegon had more of a birthright but Sansa had seen between the lines.

Baelish had told her that he recognized the spider’s words in the raven sent to them and that sealed that when it came to this Aegon Targaryen.

The second proposal was from Euron Greyjoy who claimed to want to help her sister fight against the dead but only through a marriage pact.

A nothing proposal considering the fact that Littlefinger had told her that Euron was riding to Casterly Rock to meet Cersei.

Which brought her to the last letter that warned the Starks of who the true rulers were. Cersei had fled the capital after blowing up the Sept of Baelor. The people had begun to riot and that added with the fact that this Aegon was marching to the capital with the Golden Company and Dornish forces.

Cersei decided to hole herself in the Westerlands with her brother and the Lannister army.

Sansa knew Cersei and she suspected that the woman probably left a calling card that would win her back her throne.

‘Your grace, forgive me for stating this but wouldn’t the smartest thing for us would be to side with the Dragon King. He has already stated he would offer his support should we support him as well’ Davos said.

Joanna nodded in contemplation.

Sansa knew that this Daeron was the obvious choice. He had three dragons and up to one hundred thousand men along with the Reach and parts of the Iron Islands as allies.

He was the clear winner in this war.

‘I thought by sending each of them proof, that they would all put aside their nonsense and join me but men are fickle’ Joanna remarked.

When the Bolton forces had surrendered, Joanna had offered them a choice. Death or the wall, most chose the wall.

From there Joanna instructed that a group of them to go to each kingdom and show them the proof of the wights.

So far only this Daeron and Euron had acknowledged it.

‘Perhaps a marriage with this Dragon King will be your best solution’ Davos said and when he saw Joanna try and form a protest he held his hands. ‘Your grace you won’t kneel and that’s fair but someone has to let up to help fight this threat, no one in the realm believes in this Aegon even if he managed to curb the small folk after taking the city.’

Joanna sighed.

‘Fine I will meet with this Dragon King. Sansa you will rule Winterfell in my stead’ she ordered. Sansa stared at her sister in disbelief but the firm nod Joanna gave her made Sansa have a feeling she hadn’t felt in a while. The feeling of kinship and family.

She nodded dutifully but a familiar voice next to her interrupted their moment.

‘Your grace perhaps you should consider playing both sides. Why not tie both Targaryens through marriage and you will have the Golden Company and Dorne added to your fight’ Littlefinger suggested.

Joanna was not pleased by the man or the presence that he had but he had quite the significant influence amongst the Vale, Sansa shifted uneasily at his suggestion but was thankful when Joanna quickly dismissed it.

‘I am not trading my sister like cattle, I have made my case, and our sole attention should be us primarily focusing on the threat beyond the wall’ her sister stated firmly.

She could see that Baelish wanted to argue further but Littlefinger was smarter than that and he probably sensed that Joanna did not trust him in the slightest. Sansa did feel a sense of gratitude with her sister though. The fact that Joanna protected her so despite them never being close.

The trust and gratitude that her sister would place in her often left her feeling confused and at times uneasy.

When she was in the Vale pretending to be Alayne, she was starting to learn from Littlefinger, learning how to get what she wanted and how to take power.

Power that Joanna had.

But therein lay the problem. Joanna had done all she could to protect her and Sansa felt only shame when she considered her envy.

‘I think our meeting has come to an end, Ser Davos instruct a maester to send a raven to Dragonstone telling this Dragon King that I accept to meet. You’re all dismissed’ Joanna ordered.

They all marched out the room. Littlefinger gave her a longing look before walking out. Val did the same as he looked at his queen, not that Joanna was paying him any attention. Her eyes solely focused on the map.

When everyone had left the two of them, Sansa had decided to pour her wine.

‘I think Val still wants you in his bed’ Sansa commented as she studied her sister who had released her raven black hair from the single braid that Sansa had tied for her.

Joanna looked up at her and slightly blushed before rolling her eyes.

‘I was grieving our brother and he offered me comfort. It was a mistake because he took too much meaning from it. He wanted to steal me but I refused’ she said. ‘I only keep him around because he is one of the few people I can trust that won’t keep anything from me.’

The last part was a pointed jab at her.

‘I should have told you about the Vale’ Sansa mustered.

Joanna nodded.

‘Aye, you should have. Can I trust you Sansa? I truly want to trust you and believe that your intentions are pure. I need to know that I can trust that you will rule the North well in my absence’ her sister asked her, her grey eyes piercing her with a look that father would give her when she did something to upset him.

‘You can’ Sansa stated.

Joanna didn’t look convinced and she turned back to the map.

‘Will you offer him marriage?’ she asked.

Joanna clenched her jaw.

‘If it means saving the North then perhaps I might but he never offered. Perhaps he doesn’t see it as necessary considering that his dragons’ Joanna replied.

Sansa nodded.

‘Mayhaps you will fall in love with him’ she suggested.

A sad look crossed Joanna’s face.

‘No one could ever truly love a bastard. Those who do end up dead like Robb’

**Barristan**

Pride.

It’s what Barristan felt whenever he looked upon his king.

How else would one look upon the father of dragons. It’s the same feeling his lost prince, Rhaegar, would have had if he were here to see his youngest brother stand here in Dragonstone.

Daeron had lived a hard life.

Harder than most.

As an infant he had been on the run with only his brother Viserys to protect him. Being the son of Aerys had damned him to a life of pain and struggle such is the like the boy had never deserved. For the boy might have been Aery’s son but everything about him screamed of his mother Rhaella.

From the way Daeron would converse with children to his determination to protect the downtrodden. These were all elements that he had inhabited of Rhaella.

Though despite all of this, Daeron was his own man.

To recount his tale is to look at someone who may be akin to a God, if one were to believe in that sort of thing.

The tale started in Pentos in which Daeron and his brother Viserys stayed in the company of a magister. A magister who it turns out had been conspiring with the Spider to put a false boy on the throne. Though at the time Daeron had been none the wiser because he was just doing as his brother bid.

Daeron didn’t have much at that point, all he had was his name and the many lessons he had gathered whilst training to be a decent sword.

Viserys had taken to become more and more like his father. Daeron often spoke of how cruel Viserys had become, stating that the brother he once loved, the one who had protected him would often lose himself to his temper and hurt him.

It was one of the reasons why when Daeron turned twelve, he took to the blade and trained, soon Viserys cruelty became more towards emotional neglect and taunts.

Barristan often disagreed with his grace because a part of Daeron always thought that his prowess with blade was one of the reasons that his brother started his descent into paranoia.

Not that Daeron held much love for Viserys at the end. A horrible end by all accounts.

Viserys and the magister had organized a meet with the Dothraki.

Daeron had thought of it as them exchanging gold for their service but it was soon revealed that this was to be a betrothal of his grace and a daughter of Khal Drogo.

Khal Drogo was one of the fiercest Khals that the Dothraki had ever seen, even being known as the Khal of Khals. Drogo’s only failure was him not being able to have a son. Instead he had a daughter. Not that it deterred Drogo because Drogo was a man who believed in prophecy. This prophecy stated that a Khal with silver hair would lead them all to salvation, Khal Drogo wanted that Khal to be of his blood.

Irony turned out differently and it ended up being Daeron himself but regardless Daeron had been wed to a woman he did not want to marry.

On the surface Barristan always wondered why this marriage was so terrible for his king.

After all marriages are always used to gain alliances and in the end his prince ended up bringing the Dothraki to Westeros.

It’s only when Lady Ashara had explained to him that Daeron had never wanted what his brother wanted. Never cared for a crown and all he wanted was a home.

Daeron wanted to live a life of peace, peace that Viserys would never accept. Not laterally at the very least. Viserys wanted his throne.

That very decision is when the split between the two began.

Before Daeron was to wed Kura, Drogo’s daughter. He had already been familiar with someone else.

Missandei was a name that was barely brought up in the presence of the King but the pain was there all the same.

She had been a slave bought by Illyrio and offered as a gift to the Targaryens.

She had been instructed to teach Daeron how to speak the Dothraki tongue.

Unfortunately what they didn’t account for was the fact that Missandei had been one of the few people to ever start caring truly about Daeron and the moment Khal Drogo arrived. Daeron had already been intimate with Missandei.

They kept up their relationship with even Kura helping as she kept up their mummery, she was more than happy not to be forced into a bed her father wanted her in.

Things were fine until Missandei was suddenly with child. Kura wasn’t with one, something that frustrated her father to the point where he became abusive.

When Daeron had found out that Missandei was pregnant, he had decided that they would run away. Him, Missandei and even Kura. All three would escape Viserys and his plans along with Khal Drogo and his insane belief in prophecy.

Their plans were ruined by Ser Jorah who was serving Viserys and never much took towards Daeron. Daeron had taken his life but the damage was done.

Daeron always relented to his brother’s plans because that is what dutiful brother does but when Viserys had promptly threatened Missandei and stated he would cut his little brother’s child from out her womb.

Daeron had told him that was the first time his brother ever truly saw a true dragon and the second time in his life when he had struck Viserys to the floor.

The King had always expressed that he loved his brother even naming a dragon after him but that was the moment that Viserys had truly been lost to him.

Viserys had grown paranoid of his brother, something that had started when Daeron took to the sword and that had been the tipping point.

Daeron had gotten the respect of the Dothraki, even the Khal Drogo gifting him with various pelts to show his appreciation to him. Viserys had never been shown such respect, only ridicule and he had long suspected his brother Daeron would try and usurp his claim, something that their King always denied.

Viserys had gone on to betray Daeron, informing Drogo about his mummery with Kura and Missandei. Viserys then offered himself to take Kura as his wife so she may birth him a silver haired son to lead the Dothraki to salvation but the middle dragon had underestimated Drogo’s rage.

Drogo had melted his brain with molten gold and killed him right where he stood before going after Daeron.

The King had managed to escape with Missandei briefly with the help of Khals and blood riders who had taken a liking to the silver prince.

It was for naught because Drogo sacked town after town in search for them and in the process Kura’s life had been lost in the crossfire. Something that Drogo had blamed Daeron for. And something that the King still blames himself for even to this day.

When Drogo finally found him outside Vaes Dothrak, he challenged him. Daeron had fought him and he had won. But Drogo was no mere sword. In their fight Daeron had been heavily wounded despite deceiving Drogo and dealing him the killing blow.

The King was on deaths door. Missandei begged a witch for help, to heal him and let him live.

The witch did heal their King but dark magic needed a trade.

The King had lost Missandei and his unborn child.

A tragedy that broke him but a tragedy that led him to a pyre that made him birth three large dragons.

Ashara worried for Daeron but when she saw him step out of the pyre, something new blossomed within her.

From there Daeron and the small entourage he had decided to keep moving through the red waste.

From Qarth all the way to Astapor.

When Ser Barristan met him, he didn’t fully know the King’s true character, he only fully understood it when he saw him free the unsullied.

From then on Daeron went to become the Father of Dragons and breaker of chains as he freed slaves in his wake.

Mereen had proved to be the most challenging.

And no day had been more unbearable for his grace than when Tyrion Lannister arrived and with him came news of a devastating betrayal.

Barristan had always fancied Ashara and even as an elder, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Ashara’s relationship with Daeron had been complex. Barristan was no fool and he would admit that his grace was a very beautiful man, with the looks of Rhaegar and the build of a Dothraki warrior. Not to mention his iron will and gentle heart.

It’s easy to see why Ashara had fallen in love with him. Daeron never returned that affection, not in the way Ashara wanted at least. Daeron had even taken a Mereen courtesan to bed and Ashara had never taken a liking to Doreah.

But Daeron had still cared deeply for Ashara and her betrayal was one that wounded their king.

Tyrion had informed them that Ashara had been serving as a spy for this fake Aegon Targaryen.

Ashara had cried in front of Daeron admitting that she had lost her own child during Robert’s rebellion before Varys came to her and told her that her friend, Elia’s child, still lived. She had then gone on to help Connington to raise the boy.

Ashara had figured out that the boy was a fake but she had raised him as a son so she couldn’t just abandon him or kill him. That is when she agreed to come and spy on the King to help Aegon.

Daeron didn’t execute her but he sent her away.

That was when things turned for the worse as the Sons of the Harpy staged an attack in Mereen before their king escaped on Aeryon, his black dragon.

Barristan had to hold the city for moons before the King returned with the largest horde of Dothraki ever put to man.

From there they rooted out the enemy and turned their sights onto Westeros.

Even in exile Ashara had proved useful because she returned with the Tyrells and the Greyjoys who were looking for an alliance.

Daeron forgave her somewhat.

The greatest boon for Barristan was when his King named him as hand. An offer that Barristan thought would go to Tyrion but one that Daeron wasn’t truly trusting in.

This led them down the path to Dragonstone. With a large army and three large dragons.

Their goal was simple, to remove this false king from King’s Landing and bring Westeros to heel.

It was all obvious until some men from the Nights Watch along with a red priestess came to see them with a crate.

They had all been shocked to see what was inside and even more shocked by the declaration of the Queen in the North in were the true fight she be focused on.

Countless debates ranged from there. His grace wanted to send his forces north because his belief was in protecting the innocent and only the innocent.

They all argued against him.

In the end they had convinced the King for him to solidify the seven kingdoms before he marched to the North.

Tyrion had stated that if they could convince the North to fight with them to unseat the false King then they can all turn North without fear or repercussion from the south.

They just needed to convince this Stark queen.

Daeron consented and they had just received a response on where they would meet.

Currently they sat outside of the castle as Daeron smiled and watched his dragons fly in the sky.

‘I still think this plan is folly’ his grace stated in his deep voice.

Barristan smiled.

‘That may be so my king but what is the point of saving the world from its extinction if we leave them in the hands of rulers who would make them suffer?’ he asked his grace.

The King pondered what he said before arching one of his brows, his violet eyes seemingly amused at his notion.

‘I can ask you the same thing only the other way round. The North will see it that way’ Daeron stated.

Barristan shrugged, this was the plan and he had been tired of the constant debates.

‘You realize there is an obvious solution with regards to this queen?’ he pointed out.

Daeron shut his eyes in frustration.

‘Yes I do but I would like to meet her first, you know as well as I that betrothals have turned disastrous for me in the past’ Daeron responded.

Barristan nodded sympathetically.

‘Perhaps but I have heard things about this Joanna. They call her the She-Wolf, she is as deadly with a sword just as she is beautiful’ he remarked.

That didn’t get a response from his king.

‘Mayhaps you will fall for her and she will fall for you’ he added.

This had gotten the attention of their King.

‘No one could ever love a dragon. Those who do end up dead like Missandei.’


	2. The Start Of Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was initially going to be how the story started but I felt like backstory had been needed in the last chapter
> 
> Time is not a linear concept.

****

**Joanna**

‘The Bastard of Winterfell’ Tyrion said dryly as they stood in the spare tent setup for her in her camp. Tyrion had requested to meet with her personally.

‘The Dwarf of Casterly Rock’ she said with a smile.

Tyrion smiled as well.

‘I believe the last time we saw each other, you were sparring with a dummy in the training yard in Winterfell whilst Robert feasted with his men inside’ the dwarf remarked.

Joanna gave him an easy smile.

‘I remember you saying that I shared the same name as your mother. I thought it was sweet’ she recalled. ‘Well until you tried to lure me into your bed that is.’

Tyrion shrugged guiltily.

‘You were a ridiculously beautiful girl with no suitor near you and I was already drunk’ he said in his defense. ‘I knew the probability of someone of your beauty to accept me would be as likely as a blind man finding gold by himself but you know what they say about dwarves and luck.’

Joanna let out a genuine laugh.

It had been awhile since she had laughed.

Davos often came close but she knew he was doing it out of concern for her well-being and while it was well intentioned, she often wondered if his concern was stemmed from the fact that she was their best hope of them surviving the threat beyond the wall.

With Tyrion she knew he sought her laughter because it was Tyrion being Tyrion.

‘Did I have any chance my queen?’ he asked her as he referred to that day.

Joanna smiled.

‘I think your chances were slightly better than you think they were’ she lied.

Tyrion blushed as best as he could, she would admit that he looked better with the beard that he had grown from his time in Essos.

‘And what of my king?’ he asked more quietly with an inquisitive gaze. ‘How does he fare?’

Joanna sighed and clenched her teeth.

Knowing that was why he had come here. Of course it was, especially after that disaster of a first meeting.

Their first meeting had been interesting, if she had to search for a positive.

Joanna had many expectations of the Dragon King. Some that he met and some that he didn’t.

He was attractive.

Though attractive may be too simplistic to describe Daeron Targaryen.

Joanna found it somewhat off putting when his herald had yelled out his titles when they met within a large communal tent within the Neck.

When she had caught sight of him, all she could think to herself was wow.

Daeron was gorgeous.

As a child she had never swooned over knights like Jeyne and Sansa did. Arya and her would scoff at them and admire warriors like Visenya. They would bemoan the treatment of Rhaenerya.

She never coveted the dragon lords but only looked on with veiled admiration. If she knew that they looked like Daeron, mayhaps she would have reconsidered.

He was as pretty as the songs. In fact the songs themselves did quite a disservice because they couldn’t capture how pretty he was

But despite his prettiness, there was also that slight petulance that had annoyed her.

‘Your king leaves a lot to be desired’ she replied to Tyrion.

Tyrion nodded uneasily.

In their first meeting, all his titles were announced, a form of spectacle that Joanna didn’t really give a fuck about.

From there it got worse, from him calling her Lady Snow. To the dismissive tone that Daeron’s advisors had.

Ashara Dayne had been the worst of them.

Joanna would admit that her ire with the woman in the meeting may have been more personal in nature than it had with regards to her behavior.

During her time in Winterfell, many had whispered how Ashara had to be her mother; why else would Ned Stark’s bastard be so pretty.

When the nights in Winterfell had become unbearably hard, when Catelyn Stark would spoil Sansa and Arya whilst eyeing her with coldness and such disdain that she felt sadness within herself, she had imagined that Ashara was her mother. A woman that probably had no knowledge she existed, a fantasy that she had clung to.

And even if her father had confirmed her mother to be dead when he had refused her request to be wed so she could leave Winterfell and leave all of Lady Stark’s coldness, he had told her that her mother’s dying wish was for her to be loved. But even then she clung on to that idea of Ashara. A foolish hope.

To see her stand so close to Daeron who sat smugly and comfortably in his makeshift throne. It unnerved her.

Just as much as his pretty face and strong physique had unsettled her.

‘His grace didn’t go about it the right way’ Tyrion admitted.

She grit her teeth at the thought of the meeting.

How Daeron called her ‘Lady Snow.’

A title that Alliser brandished for her before he stabbed her in the heart.

Mayhaps he would be happy knowing a scion of the house he once served still lived.

In some sense she did reunite them, it was his corpse that she had sent over to Dragonstone.

She had let it go, being a bastard was a title that she was used to and she doubted that Daeron had meant any disrespect by calling her by her name.

But then he had to mention Robb. Or worse yet, he didn’t mention Robb.

Daeron didn’t say his name outright; it’s the way he brushed past his name.

When Davos had corrected Daeron and told him that she was a Queen, a monarch. He could have apologized but instead he had said the last King in the North had been the King who knelt for Aegon, Torrhen Stark.

It boiled her blood.

This is what Robb’s legacy had been dumbed down to. A forgotten memory. A little skirmish that didn’t affect any southerner but that had bled her family dry. Robb was just another footnote.

The meeting went left from there and never recounted its path.

It always amazed her how minds could be so fickle; she had shown them proof of the dead. She had shown them how dangerous the threat was and yet they still acted like this threat was only a Northern problem. Calling it her war, like she was the one who had given birth to the others.

Davos had been the first to lose his temper, proclaiming everything she had done.

From fighting the War of the Five Kings. To stretching beyond the wall and saving the Free-Folk from certain death. To reclaiming the North. And how now she was trying to save the world.

The way Davos spoke of her, it had made her sound like a hero and maybe she was.

But to her there was always an asterisk in all of those events.

Barristan and Tyrion had tried to intervene but tempers were already high.

The meeting had ended with her telling him how she had been disappointed to meet him, despite his family’s faults with regards to her grandfather, her uncle and her aunt on the hands of the Targaryens. She had forgone all that.

She had agreed to come here not only for the greater good of humanity but because of one person.

And that person was Maester Aemon.

When Ramsay’s arrow had wounded her and ended the life of her child. She had all but accepted her death but Aemon had helped her, he had told her that Bran was beyond the wall despite the fact that Alliser had barred Sam from telling her that the news of their whereabouts.

Aemon had helped her and he had given her the courage to do what was right when she let the Free-Folk cross the wall.

She had remembered how fondly he spoke of his last nephew in Essos who was fighting slavery and how proud he was of him and how he knew the boy to be a good man. Joanna had thought the same. He had to have been a good man to do all that.

And she had said all that Daeron after he told her that the North was basically in open rebellion by not bending the knee.

When she had said all that, Joanna saw him flinch slightly but she had walked away back to her camp.

‘And neither did you, I would have expected you to know how to handle your temper better’ Tyrion pointed out.

She gave him a sharp gaze but Tyrion raised his hands in some surrender.

‘When we came here I thought the King was going to offer a betrothal but I assume he decided that a show of strength would have been better, he never meant offence. His grace has dealt with people in the past that only responded to strength even when he offered them mercy. I think he didn’t fully anticipate you would be the way you are’ Tyrion said. ‘And honestly I don’t think you anticipated he would be the way he is.’

Joanna groaned. She had grown tired of their aimless conversation.

‘Why did you come here Lord Tyrion?’ she asked him.

Tyrion smiled.

‘As blunt as always, I am glad some things haven’t changed about you’ he said before taking a breath when he saw her scowl. ‘In Winterfell I remember sleeping in the kennels were they kept the hounds; it wasn’t the first time I slept in one mind you. I remember when your kennel master brought a new dog into the kennel and that dog immediately got into a tussle with the other one.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question’ she said impatiently.

Tyrion smiled like he was a wise old man speaking to a girl, it grated her.

‘I think it does, the reasons those two dogs were barking at each other was because they were exactly the same and it unnerved them both to find something so alike so indistinguishable when you think you are the only one who is that way. It’s frightening to find someone so similar to yourself and yet feel intimidated by your differences. Makes you act brashly’ he said.

‘King Daeron wanted to speak to you separately by the boulder on the edge of the hill of the forest without Lady Ashara to peer at you in jealousy or without the Blackfish staring at him as if he were a demon. Mayhaps you may get somewhere’ Tyrion said with a shrug.

The dwarf walked away back to the camps.

Joanna washed away her pride and padded along with Ghost to where he stood on the edge.

She had to put away her pride because if they were to survive then she needed them to band together and she knew that she needed his help.

Daeron had unsettled her, that much was obvious.

That light fiery purple haze had lit a spark in her that she hadn’t felt ever.

Usually it was blue eyes that she was used to. Robb used those blue eyes to enhance that charming smile. Val had used his blue eyes to enhance that pretty blonde face.

But it was the blue eyes she saw at Hardhome that unnerved her the most and made her put away her pride to look upon the purple ones that she found rather intoxicating.

He had an _unblinking_ gaze that was entirely too distracting when she first saw him.

She found him on the edge of the hill, looking out at the dragons as they lazily flew in the sky. She had been mesmerized when they arrived and the green dragon flew towards their camp.

‘Amazing sight to see’ she said.

Daeron turned to look at her briefly before turning to the sky.

‘I named them after my father and my brothers. They represent what they should have been’ he replied.

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

All she did was stand beside him as he gazed out at his gorgeous beasts.

A smile played on his lips and Joanna noticed that Ghost had been sniffing the Dragon King. Daeron surprised her when he started patting her wolf. Ghost who usually frayed from others and only stuck by Joanna seemed to be responding ardently to his pats.

‘It appears as if your wolf likes me’ he said with a smile.

This was a real smile, not the patronizing smirks he had been giving her earlier.

‘That must make you special, she rarely lets anyone touch her’ she responded.

‘I noticed there were other wolves with you when your party arrived. They aren’t as big as her but they still manage to almost size up to my blood riders horses’ he stated.

There was genuine curiosity in his voice and a hint of wonder.

‘Their direwolves, creatures from beyond the wall. When they grow to their full size then they are like Ghost here and reach the size of a bear. The other wolves you saw were Ghost’s children, she’s bigger because she is older and she is their mother’ she said.

It had come as a surprise to her when she realized that Ghost had been carrying six direwolf pups in her belly.

Though in hindsight, she should have realized it sooner. Greywind and Robb were always of one mind and the wolves had spent an inordinate amount of time together.

It had made sense that Ghost was pregnant with pups, when Ramsay had managed to ambush her on her way back to Winterfell from the Riverlands; she had wondered why her wolf had been so slow and labored as to not be able to protect her.

When Samwell had helped deliver the pups, that’s when she knew. She was happy that Ramsay hadn’t been able to harm Ghost or her children with Greywind.

She only wished she could say the same for her own babe with his master.

A look of sadness had washed over her face and Daeron had noticed.

‘I want to apologize for our meeting earlier. I did not handle myself well at all’ he said with a sigh. ‘In the past I have faced many betrayals from different people, so that show in there wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for all those people who sought to take advantage of me in the past. I have experienced so many that I think perhaps I assumed the worst when I was to meet you’

Joanna had been stunned by his words, she expected more haggling from him. She expected more disagreement from him. What she didn’t expect was honesty. In the past six to seven years all she had experienced were liars and it was refreshing that a man like Daeron seemed honest.

‘Before coming here, my advisors suggested that marriage would be the best foot forward and I do agree that it makes the most sense but I was hesitant. I was against it because in the past I had to marry an innocent Dothraki girl against both of our wills and I wouldn’t want another person to suffer through that. That’s why I insisted on having you bend the knee.’

The apology was genuine and the look in his eyes told Joanna there was slither of pain that accompanied that tale.

‘I accept your apology’ she said. ‘I offer mine as well.’

She couldn’t articulate why she had lost her temper yesterday. Not as well as he could. Joanna was never one for words; she was a woman of action.

The King didn’t seem to mind.

‘I want to help you fight this war but I need to unite the seven kingdoms under my rule. Help me take Westeros and I will help you fight the others. Together with a united army, just like you united the North and sent all the Bolton men to man the wall. We could do the same’ he offered his hand and Joanna looked at with some hesitation before taking it and shaking it.

Daeron smiled at her and she felt strange.

Almost like a chasm lifting in her heart.

‘Do you mind telling me about my uncle Aemon’ he asked.

She gave him a sincere smile at that unblinking gaze and they had gone on to chat the whole night.

The next day they announced their betrothal. She had informed Davos about their conversation and Daeron had informed his hand, Ser Barristan as well.

Joanna found it preferable to tell their hands because she noticed how amiable the two were at chatting. It was also a better alternative because she noted that when most of their allies were around, meetings were never as cordial as they could be.

Lord Royce and Glover were constantly barking at Barristan and Tyrion even when their plans are sound.

An agreement had been made as to when they would wed.

She noted that Tyrion wanted them to wed as soon as possible with even Barristan agreeing. Most of her Northern vassals were similar.

The rest weren’t so eager. Ashara tried her best to hide her emotions but Joanna could tell that the woman wanted to hold off on the wedding for as long as feasibly possible.

Val had acted the same and Joanna felt some semblance of pity in that regard. She had not known when the pretty man had fallen in love with her because it had just been a fling, one to distract her from her sadness but she seemed to have written a place in his heart for some reason.

There were other bannermen as well who wanted to hold off on them marrying immediately, with hope that some of their sons might have chance with her.

In the end they came to an agreement that they would marry once Kings Landing was taken and that it would give the people a cause to celebrate their new monarchs when they take the city.

Daeron had stated that it would be a good way to mesh their armies and it would be a great opportunity for them to get to know each other.

There had been a gentleness when he said it, one that she noticed he tried to hide whenever he was around everyone else. Robb was much the same.

It made her feel weird because one of the reasons why she let Robb into her bed in the first place was because of exactly that. That show of kindness towards a lonely bastard girl.

‘Tyrion seems eager for us to make plans south’ she commented as they sat for a private supper together.

It had been almost three weeks since they had gotten to know each other.

‘Well now that we have finally agreed to an alliance I am sure he is eager for us to head back and continue onwards to take the seven kingdoms’ he said as he drank his wine.

He had such a formal posture, the regal nature in how he consumed his food made her feel some shame because she would scarf down her meat with neither grace nor shame, one of the drawbacks of hanging with soldiers for the past five years. She had thought Daeron was disgusted but it actually amused him as he gave her that expression of his, that expression that indicated he was trying his best not to smile at her.

‘Yes but his determination is strange, he seems off from the Tyrion I knew in Winterfell’ she stated.

Daeron nodded as he put his wine down.

‘He’s hungry for revenge. Before we came here, he wanted me to send my unsullied with him to Casterly Rock. Lady Ashara argued for me to focus on the Capital first. Though Tyrion claims that by taking the Westerlands, I take the gold from one of the richest houses in Westeros’ he said.

He sounded unsure and she could hear that there was a part of him asking what she thought.

‘I would like nothing more to see that House burn but I think that’s what Tyrion wants and he would say and do anything to see that happen’ she said.

Baelish had told her that aligning with House Lannister may be beneficial. In fact Baelish had suggested every other house to her besides House Targaryen. That spoke volumes to Joanna.

Daeron looked at his cup deeply and for the first time he didn’t look like a king. He looked like a boy who wanted nothing more than being able to go home. She felt like comforting him but given how he abruptly sat up back into that regal posture of his, it had appeared as if he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

‘A part of me yearns for revenge as well’ he said trying to sound assured.

Though it didn’t entirely sound convincing.

‘And the other part?’ she asked him.

‘Home’ he said with a chaste smile.

She hadn’t seen the resemblance up until now but she laughed.

Daeron looked at her curiously but she held up her hand.

‘Sorry, I didn’t see it until now but you actually looked a lot like Maester Aemon when you said that’ she replied.

Daeron gave her a smile and the smile was so sweet. It’s the same smile that Robb would give her whenever she figured out a new strategy against an advancing opponent. But this one was different, it melted her insides and brought a feeling that Joanna had never been fully accustomed to.

Joanna loved Robb, she knew that she did. He was her brother. But their love always felt strange. Robb always told her that she completed him that he loved her more than anything.

She never knew if she felt the same. She always wondered if she loved the idea of Robb more than Robb himself, to know that someone like him could ever love a bastard.

A part of her wondered if Daeron could love her and deep down inside, a part of her wanted him to love her.

‘I wish I knew him’ he said sadly, bringing her attention back to the present.

Without prompting she grasped his hand tightly.

‘He would have liked you’ she said. Their eyes locked for a moment before Daeron dropped his eyes and looked at where her hand had held his. She let go and they both cleared their throats.

‘I hate that I am the last of my family’ he said.

The thought made Joanna curious, she was going to question him about children they may have but instead she asked him about his other supposed family.

‘What of your supposed nephew?’ she asked him.

Daeron shook his head in anger.

‘He is a pretender who sits in my throne, nothing more’ he said

‘Does it bother you that you have to fight this Aegon?’ she asked again.

He shook his head.

‘My nephew died in Kings Landing as a babe and it is an insult that this pretender does this to me after everything I have done, everything I suffered’ he spat angrily before he sighed and searched her eyes. ‘You’re Queen in the North, you took Winterfell and you suffered to better this world and better your house again. What would you do after all you have suffered, if your supposed nephew suddenly showed up, someone claiming to be Robb Stark’s son came to claim Winterfell as its King?’

Joanna didn’t blink when he said that. She didn’t even do a good job of hiding the pain that his statement brought when she clutched her belly.

She would have named him Eddard had he survived and the memory felt like the knife Olly had stuck in her.

Daeron noticed his blunder.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…’ he said but she stopped his apology.

‘It’s alright’ she said with the wave of her hand and wiped the forming tears that had wet her ducts.

She refused to look at him, not wanting him to see the weakness that was in full display by her reaction to a forgotten and pained memory.

When she finally gathered the strength to look up at him, she didn’t know what reaction to expect. Perhaps an awkward politeness on his part or pity or even worse a snide remark as to how the bastard wept for an unborn child made out of incest.

But that wasn’t the look he was giving her, there was no pity, there was concern sure but not one of a patronizing nature.

His look was one of understanding, one of empathy.

‘When I was boy before my brother sold me off to the Dothraki, I knew a girl. She was a slave girl, long story short we grew close and she ended up with my child. The Khal who wanted me to bed his daughter hadn’t been happy and he hunted the both of us. When he caught us, I managed to kill him but I was wounded and Missandei had been so distraught that she made a deal with a witch to spare me. Little did she know that it meant her and my child’s life and a curse that meant I would be the last.’

He looked down and clenched his jaw as if to fight off tears.

‘I understand better than anyone’ he said slowly.

Joanna hadn’t realized that she put an arm on his shoulder. He probably did understand better than anyone.

Davos had said it earlier when he listed what she had done in correlation to what he had done. Tyrion had used that terrible dog analogy to emphasize it as well.

They were both similar.

‘I’m not actually a Snow, well for a brief period during the war of the five kings I wasn’t’ she said softly. Daeron looked up with a curious gaze. ‘My brother had me legitimized after he took me to a heart tree. My stepmother found out and she blew a gasket, that’s why I had left him. I didn’t want him to lose a war because of me, I didn’t want to be the exact thing I had been judged for my whole life, a bastard who was lustful and took everything for her own gain. I thought my leaving would have made it better but they all died anyway. And not only did they die. I had gone down the path that led to my child’s death.’

They kept quiet, with only the fire crackling. There were two loud and sad groans from the dragons outside and from the distance she could hear Ghost’s children, probably Oasis and Hurricane, howling in distress.

‘What a sad pair of romantic fools we are’ Daeron muttered with a somber smile and a tearful laugh.

She bared him a brighter smile this time one that he seemed to like.

‘And yet it’s up to us to be the realms of men’ she replied.

He nodded and they briefly paused with their faces coming in close. She wondered if he was actually going to kiss her, at the moment she wasn’t opposed to it at all.

To her disappointment he leaned back into that regal pose of his.

‘I should take my rest’ he said.

She nodded in understanding despite her disappointment as she stood up.

‘You have a beautiful smile by the way. You should show it more’ he said.

She rolled her eyes but she smirked.

She left his tent with that feeling, only it was different than when she was with Robb.

For the first time since arriving, Joanna felt content to getting to know her soon to be betrothed. Perhaps it would grow into something more than she had ever had, mayhaps she can fall in love with him.

And perhaps he can love a bastard.

**Daeron**

That feeling had returned.

A feeling he thought he buried not so long ago.

He remembered that day in Pentos after he had trained strenuously after his brother had berated him for some random thing that had set him off on one of his rage benders.

Daeron had strained himself, to the point of injury.

Most would have probably gone to a healer but Daeron didn’t trust Illyrio and given that they were about to wage war with the pawn that Illyrio had placed on the throne, Daeron’s instincts had proven to be true.

But nevertheless he had been in pain, a pain he had tried to hide from everyone, especially his brother who would use his weakness as an opportunity to hurt him.

Missandei had noticed though; bless her heart she had noticed. During their many wonderful lessons.

The soft and sweet girl had been building an attraction with him but that day when she noticed his pain and tended to him. That feeling, one he never thought he would feel for anyone, it was there.

That flutter in his heart that made him feel that he cared for Missandei. He had never thought that feeling would return, not after Missandei died. Not even for Doreah with all her forwardness or Ashara with all her beauty. The feeling had never returned and for a long time Daeron had felt dead inside, he thought himself to be alone forever.

But it had returned.

It had returned with this Joanna Snow.

In the three weeks that they had stayed camped in the Neck, it had come back.

It felt different this time around.

Daeron would try to find every reason to fight it, to fight his instinct of feeling any affection for the girl but every time he would come up short.

Viserys had often told him of how Ned Stark was one of the Usurpers dogs and while Barristan had corrected him later on, Daeron still had that mental image of drab and cold Northerners.

He had expected some ghoul to address him when he met her. After Ser Jorah’s betrayal he truly downplayed his expectations of the North.

But then he saw her.

She was insanely beautiful.

Joanna was like Missandei in the fact that the both of them were obviously gorgeous but that barely mattered to them and they did not care much to use their beauty to their advantage.

It caught him off guard.

Tyrion had even pointed it out and when he had denied it, the imp had gone on to prove his point as he spoke crudely of her body, something that had riled up anger in him.

Joanna had been his enigma for those three weeks.

For every flaw that he tried to point out, she would supersede it with something incredible that made her hard to ignore.

When he first saw her, he thought her to be quiet and meek, a mistake.

In fact Daeron suspected that her silent nature might truly be a mask because Joanna had a temper as well that could rival his own.

He didn’t entirely mind it.

Jaehaerys had an Alysanne to tell him off when he was being stupid after all. Maybe she would be that way with him.

Joanna was as tough and cold as the North but there was softness to her, so much Daeron could see.

Whenever she spoke of his Uncle Aemon it was always there, a man that Daeron wished he had known, to see someone who was still part of his family.

Joanna would often converse with the little children in such a soft way that Daeron had a fleeting fantasy of Joanna carrying his child.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth of it, Barristan had told him not to divulge that, the man fully believed that mayhaps the fault lay with Doreah and not him, the witch who had taken his son away had proclaimed that he could never have children.

But who was he to know.

There was an exhilarating moment yesterday when he had decided to fly on his dragons to scout the land around the Neck.

He had returned and Aeryon flew straight down to where Joanna was practicing with her bow and arrow.

Daeron had been worried that his dragon had infused his confused feelings towards the Northern Queen and interpreted them as bad.

But to his surprise that wasn’t the case, his dragon had just been there out of curiosity.

Joanna had pet his dragons with no fear and she had a look of wonder as she did it.

Rhaegal had even flown down and nuzzled the girl with her nose.

To say his interest in Joanna at that moment had peaked, would be an understatement of all understatements.

He had looked to Joanna for an explanation and she just smirked at him before walking away.

Currently they sat in the large tent they had used for meetings as they strategized what their next move should be.

He stood on the far end with his council and Joanna stood opposite him with hers.

Daeron had admitted that the girl was beautiful but seeing her with her bow sheathed to her back and her sword to her front.

Looking like a warrior queen.

It did things to Daeron.

That feeling he had thought had died with Missandei was there with a vengeance.

‘The Lannisters boast an impressive force, my nephew Tommen stripped my brother of his Kingsguard position and gave him the forces of the Westerlands to command as they took Riverrun back’ Tyrion stated.

That earned a growl from the Blackfish.

‘You mean when your cunt sisterfucking kingslaying brother stole my family home and gave it to the Freys’ the Blackfish corrected.

The correction earned him a hard glare from his advisor.

‘The Freys are dead Lord Brynden, at ease’ Joanna mumbled.

The Blackfish bit his tongue but he still stood squarely as he scowled at Tyrion.

‘Nevertheless my brother escorted Cersei out of the city before the people could tear her apart for her role in the Septs of Baelor crumbling down’ Tyrion reiterated as he looked at him meaningfully.

‘That is a force of over fifteen thousand men, camped in an impregnable fortress’ Tyrion added.

Daeron knew it was the revenge that was motivating Tyrion’s argument.

Davos looked at his queen for permission to speak and when she nodded he spoke.

‘Wouldn’t it be easier to go to Kings Landing and take it first? Strike down this false king before people get used to him’ Davos remarked.

His supposed nephew did have Dorne behind him.

‘There is also the case of Euron Greyjoy. All his atrocities across the Narrow Sea leave me unsettled. I think we should deal with him first. Asha and Theon are our allies and came to us first’ Barristan argued.

That spun a roulette of arguments as to who should be attacked first and Daeron knew that each argument had merit.

Some suggested they split up the forces but Daeron felt weary about such a plan.

He knew a decision needed to be made but he felt unsure. He turned to the opposite end and he saw Joanna looking at him intently.

That was when he raised his hands for silence.

‘What do you think we should do?’ he asked her.

It seemed as if the question stunned her, a hilarious notion considering that the girl could be defiantly stubborn and opinionated when she wanted to be.

‘The Iron throne was never my conquest, I wouldn’t presume to know what the correct decision is’ she said courteously.

She was trying not to overstep but he knew that she had an idea.

‘We’re at war and if we make the wrong move now then we will be losing. I know you have seen battle before. What do you think we should do?’ he asked her

She turned to her men who looked at her expectantly; a sign that indicated they fully trusted her. His men felt the same for him but in the battles he had led in Essos he had made countless mistakes.

‘Before I became queen I found myself in the company of two great battle commanders. Lord Stannis Baratheon and my brother, Robb Stark. They lost because of their own reasons but the two of them were great at battle strategy and there is one thing I learnt from them. It’s how to think like your enemy’ she said intently.

Tyrion scoffed.

‘I think that’s kind of obvious when it comes to warfare your grace’ the dwarf replied shortly.

Daeron felt defensive for Joanna, he knew that was just the way Tyrion was but he didn’t like his tone. Joanna didn’t seem to mind.

‘Not necessarily, Robb thought that way because he was the underdog in battle. He didn’t have the numbers; all he had was the ability to risk because the likelihood of him winning was low and that is how he constantly humiliated your father.

That’s how the rest of our enemies are. They are the underdog and they have nothing to lose, so they will risk everything. We need to think like that and we shouldn’t compartmentalize our army because that weakens us even more. We need to think what they would want’ she said.

Seeing Tyrion keep quiet was a miracle in itself but he had ignored all of that and pondered her words.

Wondering what their enemy would be thinking.

‘Food!’ he said as it dawned on him. ‘My army is big and the fact that you agreed to this meeting will be a sign that you are allying with me. Together it would be a rather large army. They know that and they know that we will be desperate to end this war as soon as possible so they will expect us to compartmentalize and break down our armies and ride for them.’

‘They will use it as an opportunity to lure us into a trap’ Barristan added.

His eyes widened.

‘Highgarden that will be their target. Primarily Aegon’ he said.

Joanna nodded in agreement.

‘The Reach is loyal to you. Lady Olenna and Lord Willas bent the knee’ Tyrion argued.

‘But is the reach loyal to them? The Boltons were loyal to my family until Tywin offered them a higher position’ she stated.

Daeron stared at Joanna as if comprehending something.

‘We don’t need to win every battle to win the war; we don’t even need to partake in many battles. We just need one win. One win to scare everyone in Westeros. All the snakes will be there to try and leech the resources of the Tyrells and we will be there to send them a message’ Joanna stated.

Tyrion huffed but he seemed amenable.

‘One win to show our strength if the Westerlands or Dorne try to take the Reach’ he said smiling at her plan.

‘It’s a risky strategy. Cersei is dangerous’ Tyrion muttered.

‘So am I’ he responded. Tyrion said nothing to that, knowing his mind was made up. The rest of the room gave him curious stares, a few of them had never seen the Dragon King but that one statement had showed them who he could be.

When he turned he saw Joanna staring at him again and Daeron might have been tired but he could have sworn that he saw lust in her eyes.

He later found her in the company of a withered man in drab clothes, who had been petting her wolves. When he saw him approach, the man scampered away.

Joanna turned with an annoyed expression but her eyes stilled in contentment when she saw it was him.

‘Lord Howland Reed was a friend of my fathers. I have wanted to speak to him and thank him for having his children go with my brother beyond the wall even if they might have perished. He had been avoiding me ever since we stepped foot in the Neck. I finally got a meeting with him but you scared him off’ she hissed.

Daeron shrugged.

‘My apologies’ he said.

She sighed.

‘It’s for the best, he fought against your father in the rebellion perhaps that’s why he is shifty’ she said as she moved closer to him.

He only nodded curtly as he took her in.

‘Will you be riding with us on the morrow?’ she asked him.

He nodded.

‘It’s a great chance to get to know your people’ he said.

She nodded happily and gave him a chaste smile.

‘I have to admit that I am happy with this betrothal’ he admitted.

She gave him a full smile, one that had him weak at the knees.

‘So am I’ she said.

He leaned forward and he would have kissed her but they were interrupted by a black direwolf with red eyes that was howling intently.

Joanna giggled as she scratched the wolf’s ear.

‘That’s Hurricane’ she said softly.

He only nodded as he bit his lip.

‘Four years ago he was so small and he could barely howl; now he is louder than even your dragons’ she said with a grin. ‘It’s strange how time moves, my father used to tell us to cherish moments with them or in the blink of an eye they will be gone.’

Hurricane nuzzled his head into Daeron’s chest and Daeron smiled as Joanna watched him intently.

‘In my experience cherished moment don’t happen in the blink of an eye. When it’s special time slows down, and it could turn out to be an _Unblinking Love_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter.
> 
> Next chapter we get to see Joanna's "Normandy" plan in action. Surprise things happen and our lovers love.
> 
> Thanks for reading


	3. The Love That Grows

****

**Joanna**

As a child Joanna had always pretended.

Her pretense had become a delusion, a fantasy she would sell herself. At the top of the list of her pretenses was war, more specifically killing.

Joanna hated killing, she never liked it.

She hated spilling blood.

The dehumanizing act of taking someone else’s life always weighed heavy on her.

The more she did it, the less humane she thought herself to be because there was no nobility in taking a life.

The act disgusted her because she often had to do it.

And what’s worse was she was good at it. Too good.

She was no fool to think that all these men followed her because of her political regimes. In fact if they wanted a political player then Sansa would have been the queen for them.

But they made her queen instead and whilst she can ardently say that the Free-folk follow her because of their ardent respect and their sense of self preservation. The Northmen proclaimed her as Queen because she was a warrior.

After all she had been the White Wolf, not the young wolf like Robb or the Quiet Wolf like her father. She had been likened to Ghost because when she held her blade, she was no bastard, she was _the bastard_.

Songs would not only sing of her beauty but her prowess in battle. House Targaryen had Visenya; House Martell had Nymeria, all powerful queens who would take your life. Now House Stark had one as well.

And mayhaps when she was young, she would squeal at the thought of being so revered with women that she had idolized, particularly Visenya, but the praise felt hollow.

The killing made it hollow, having to pretend all the fucking time had made it hollow.

It felt hollow when she had taken Olly’s life. A little boy who only knew fear and pain and responded in the same blood spilling language that Westeros spoke, that Joanna’s name had thrived upon.

_‘Beware the howl of the White Wolf because when she raises Longclaw upon thee and lets her blade sing. You will know your life was ended by the Bastard of Winterfell.’_

That was the whisper spread throughout Westeros. That was the song that Robb’s men would sing as they rode through the Riverlands.

And she had returned to that path.

Trekking through the Riverlands on their march to the Reach had been the springboard for various traps set against them. Small skirmishes of men who were starved by the constant presence of war.

Nevertheless it gave Joanna ample opportunity to show her prowess and do the thing she hated the most in this world. The pretending and the killing.

Though there was a bright side.

Because it had also been the opportunity for her to get to know Daeron.

With him she didn’t have to pretend.

She had assumed that someone known as the Dragon King would be more agreeable when it came to taking lives.

But he had hated it just as much as she did.

Their march through the Riverlands had been heartbreaking and Joanna wondered if Lord Edmure Tully would be able to heal a land that had been so used to waging war.

There was a bright side, one that lifted her spirits as they got closer and closer to the Reach. Trying to keep a steady pace and not waste any time that their enemies could use against them.

The bright side in this instance was Daeron.

She had spent most of her journey conversing with him. Getting to know him more personally.

His likes and dislikes.

The things that set him off and the things that brought a smile to his pretty face.

She would be honest in admitting that she was having sordid thoughts about him.

Particularly when he had flown ahead of their large force in the darkness of the night to startle any scouts that were sent to spy on them.

When he had returned and landed on the ground with his sword strapped to his back, looking all muscled and unrestrained.

Gods.

The image itself did things to Joanna.

She had never been particular about body type but Daeron had an exceptional physique. His chest looked as built and as hard as granite but his body was carved from marble.

Joanna could tell that he wanted her as well. Whenever they rode in front of their party, she would often look to the side and when she turned back, she would see him giving her a longing gaze before looking elsewhere.

Their conversations were easy flowing as well, they’re not so hidden lust was on the surface and together it formed a somewhat bearable tension.

The thought gave her a smile at that very moment as she perched herself on a tree trying to focus her mind.

Her gift had always left the Northerners around her uneasy but it could be utilized effectively especially in situations like this as she navigated the bird to go closer before she gathered what information she needed to gather.

When she was done warging, she opened her eyes and saw Daeron looking at her intently.

A lot of emotions were flowing through his face.

‘Your eyes were so solid and white. They were _unblinking’_ he said.

It was only after he spoke did she realize how close he was. His breath felt warm against her skin.

‘Not the most attractive sight’ she said with a self-degrading smirk.

He chuckled.

‘You truly underestimate how beautiful you are then. Though I will admit, I have seen many strange things from Warlocks and the like but I have never seen that’ he said with a smile as he pointed at her eyes.

She grinned back at him.

‘I usually do it with Ghost, it naturally happens when I sleep because our minds are attuned. I can do it with other creatures but I usually stick with birds. Bigger animals are dangerous’ she replied.

He only nodded as he helped her up.

His hand was on her back and Joanna wanted to dare him to go lower. She wanted him to kiss her and he truly wanted to, his purple gaze showed only hunger.

The moment was interrupted when they heard a laugh.

Tormund’s knowing smile made Daeron lower his head slightly and Joanna wanted nothing more than to slap the grin out of the ginger’s face.

‘We were standing guard but the Dragon King here wanted to be the only one close to you. What did you see Queen Crow?’ Tormund asked her. Daeron had finally removed his hand from her back but he still stood close to her.

She suddenly remembered what she had intended on in the first place.

They all met in a makeshift tent. It was her and her generals of the North. Tormund and Val were in attendance. The Blackfish, Lord Royce and Lord Hardyng as well. The King stood opposite her with his council.

‘My suspicions were correct. The Dornish forces are camped south of the Reach border as expected’ she said.

Everyone at the table grumbled.

‘Arianne Martell most likely convinced her King to mobilize her army to take the border and approach Highgarden. Whilst the Golden Company protect Kings Landing’ Barristan commented.

Daeron had a look of puzzlement on his face.

‘As impressive as Dornish spears are, I doubt that they would be willing to threaten the might of the Reach. How did they even get close to Highgarden walls? Willas isn’t as inept to not be able to detect an incoming southern attack’ Daeron asked.

The Blackfish leaned forward.

‘Perhaps it’s as the Queen suspected and there is a traitor in their midst’ the Blackfish commented.

They all stood around the map of the Reach.

‘If there is a traitor within the Tyrell walls, why are they still waiting south of the border? They could have attacked the Reach by the time we gathered our men here’ Davos questioned.

Joanna felt that feeling of dread return to her.

‘The Dornish are not the only army here. Outside the gates of Highgarden I saw an army flanked with men ranging from twenty five to thirty thousand. I would have gone closer but they are shooting ravens out of the sky. But I did manage to see a flag with a golden lion encrusted on it’ she said.

She heard gasps murmur across the table. Daeron turned to look at Tyrion, who appeared shocked.

‘My brother wouldn’t be here, he would stay to defend Casterly Rock’ Tyrion said in disbelief.

She understood as much.

‘Perhaps your brother was hoping you would think that’ she stated, Tyrion said nothing and he seemed as if he were shrinking, if that were even more possible.

Daeron didn’t look upset; in fact he looked impressed as he stared at her for sensing that Highgarden may be the point of attack.

‘So the Dornish are south of the walls on Highgarden and the pretender likely made a deal with someone in the Tyrell camp, perhaps its Redwyne or Tarly. They could’ve secured Highgarden, its food and resources but they didn’t count on the Lannisters being this bold and marching for the main gates. Now there is a stalemate between them’ Daeron remarked.

He turned to her.

‘You were right’ Daeron stated before looking at the map and rethinking their strategy.

‘I have up to a hundred thousand men in my army consisting of Dothraki and Unsullied. Two of the most formidable armies in all of Planetos. The Queen in the North has thirty thousand men including giants, wolves, bears and mammoths. Not to mention that I have three large fire breathing dragons. I am feeling rather confident’ he added.

Tyrion had finally found his voice.

‘I wouldn’t be so confident your grace. My brother is a formidable commander’ Tyrion stated.

The Blackfish scoffed.

‘My nephew, Robb Stark, managed to defeat him in a battle. Our Queen took him out in combat. Your brother’s reputation isn’t as impressive as you think’ the man countered.

She expected an insult from Tyrion but the dwarf didn’t quip instead he turned his gaze at Daeron and then at her.

‘Perhaps but the Lannister army is filled with disciplined men who can hold their own. I have listened to my father drill his men and so has Jaimie. They will have three meter trenches and muddied their attack posts. Arrows will be their weapon for your Calvary charge. They will try to bleed out your men’ Tyrion stated.

The table was silent.

Taking the Lannisters would be easy enough, they had numbers.

But numbers weren’t the problem; their armies were filled with different groups of people. It was a nightmare to manage them all at once let alone together. The Unsullied were the only ones who seemed to have discipline to not engage and fight with the other groups.

Not only would many lives of their enemies be lost if they let them all charge in a frenzy. They would lose their men as well.

Joanna was at a loss for what to do in that instance.

She turned to Daeron and he did not seem lost, in fact he seemed determined.

‘I was born in Westeros, most of my life I lived in Essos though. But in my experience whether it was a Dothraki Khal or a Master from Yunkai, men are all the same. From Lannisport to Qarth, they are all the same. Creatures like Jaimie Lannister speak one language and I speak it as well. There is only one thing they will respond to and that’s fear and we will show them what true fear is. We have to.’

There was a fire in his eyes and Joanna felt drawn to it like a moth.

A nervous silence encroached the room as they discussed the strategy for tomorrow.

Later that night she found herself sitting in her tent before she heard a sound opening it. Her wolves were all fast asleep outside so she knew that she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

Daeron bared her a smile before turning to sit on the chair whilst she remained in her bed.

‘Can’t sleep?’ she asked him.

He nodded.

‘We’re not going to lose tomorrow. I have fought battles with lesser odds and I still won. We have five times that’ she said.

They had a plan, a decent plan.

‘That’s not what I am worried about. It’s you leading the charge that worries me’ he said as he grabbed her hands and let out a sigh worriedly.

She held his face.

‘I will be fine; besides if the men see me fight then they will feel so emasculated that they will have to join’ she said, ‘Besides I need to make sure I keep them in check whilst your prancing around in the sky.’

Daeron gave her a challenging smile.

‘Prancing around?’ he asked with a laugh.

She nodded with a grin.

‘Like a nonce’ she said.

He shifted his head in a demure fashion as Ghost charged for Daeron’s lap and she wagged her tail happily.

Her companion couldn’t have been less obvious as to how Joanna truly felt.

‘A part of me wants to order you to stay behind; I do not want to permit you to do this’ he said as he pat Ghost.

She rolled her eyes, Barristan had suggested something similar and she had shut him down quickly.

‘And like I told your hand, I don’t need your permission, I am a Queen.’

Daeron raised his hands in surrender. His silver hair was loose and with a bright smile he looked more like a little boy. She felt free in that moment, she didn’t have to pretend.

‘A warrior queen’ he commented as he looked at her. ‘Not some maiden in a tower brushing her hair, though your hair is gorgeous.’

He leaned forward and she did as well.

‘Be safe tomorrow’ he said. ‘If there is one thing I know about battles is that the best laid plans can always turn to shit. My wife once told me that everybody is a fearless warrior until an arrow flies into someone’s eye.’

She laughed her real laugh not being able to control the pig like snort that she let out. Many people who know her would probably be shocked given how serious she always appeared to be but it was a two way streak given how laid back Daeron would be whenever he was around her.

‘I will be fine and if I die, well at least you won’t have to deal with the Queen in the North anymore’ she said as she laced her fingers with his.

Daeron had a look that he gave her, one she had seen before. One that Robb used to give her. It had felt a little strange when he looked at her that way but with Daeron she relished it.

‘I’ve grown used to her’ he said before his lips met hers. There was a bit of hesitation from him despite his initiation of the kiss.

Joanna pulled him into her and grabbed his face tightly as her mouth attacked his.

The feel of his tongue within hers as their lips connected and the dance of so much tension and angst from their journey on the Neck through the Riverlands and to the far borders of the Reach were they were camped. The wait had been worth it.

He tasted like a wafer that Catelyn Stark would bake, the ones that Bran would give to her when he noticed she didn’t have any. She relished his taste and his arms holding her.

Gods his arms.

They were around her and enveloping her, she had always felt alone but she felt safe in those strong arms that the Valyrian Gods probably forged using Braavosi iron.

She gripped his arse, the pert and juicy bum that had been peeking at her from his breeches. It gave her that exhilaration that she got when she would blow plastic and then popping it to hear the sound.

Daeron was just as hungry for her, his hands were roaming everywhere and Joanna could feel his sword grow as hard as Valyrian steel.

But all of a sudden he stopped and held her at arm’s length on her bed. She gave him a quizzical glance as to why he halted and he brushed a hand on her cheek before putting his head against hers.

‘Extra motivation for you to survive tomorrow’ he said snidely.

She looked at him in half amusement and half exasperation as he straightened himself and walked out from her tent.

She let out a groan as she lay back on her pillow. When she looked up she saw Ghost looking at her intently before she tilted her head and let out an empathetic frustrated wine.

‘Oh hush girl’ she said.

The next day of the battle she readied herself on her horse.

Daeron was talking to his men. A chant in Dothraki that Joanna didn’t understand but even then the speech was passionate. Daeron’s blood riders raised their arracks in response, sickle like weapons that seemed deadly to even the bravest of fighters. Tormund had mocked the Dothraki tongue stating that they sounded like men who were spoke with cocks stuck in their throat, she was sure he would be silent as of this moment.

She watched Daeron as he barked his orders before the sky turned black despite it being a sunny day.

That was when Aeryon swooped down with his black form and stood next to Daeron who wore Targaryen armor.

Gods he looked good.

He shot her a look and gave her a subtle nod and she responded with one of her own, still relishing the feel of his arms around her body last night.

Daeron then flew into the sky and all the men turned to her.

The Dothraki were already in place and the unsullied had already began moving in a light jog as they walked up the hill.

Joanna took her queue and went forward to where Ser Barristan stood in front on the summit of the hill that hid their oncoming presence.

‘Your grace’ Barristan greeted. She noticed he had been eyeing her every once in a while stating that she looked familiar. Joanna had told him that he was probably thinking of her aunt Lyanna but Barristan disagreed, saying it was someone else.

She ignored his gaze and nodded evenly.

‘Are you ready?’ she asked him.

The Hand of the King nodded.

‘Remember our goal is to open their flanks. We kill the men in the front line and we take out the archers. The Knights of the Vale and Unsullied are the only ones who will hold a defensive formation. When all of us charge, it’s to make noise and cause a stampede’ she reminded him.

The plan was to create fear and take prisoners.

Barristan nodded calmly and Joanna felt a little guilty that she was barking orders to a seasoned veteran like Barristan the Bold.

She took her place in front of all the men. Daeron was somewhere in the clouds and he along with his other dragons would only descend once they were barreling down on the summit of the hill.

That was the plan.

She turned to see if all the men were ready.

Tormund shot her a smile as he sat on a mammoth behind the actual skilled rider of the huge beast.

Ghost ambled to her side. Her pups were right behind her, ready to spill blood.

Joanna made sure her sword and bow were strapped tightly before she raised her fist and galloped on her black steed.

The feeling was exhilarating. To lead a charge with not only Dothraki but with Vale Knights as they overtook the unsullied.

She was right in front with Ghost, Hurricane and Storm right beside her, with the other pups barreling behind.

Everyone was screaming.

The Dothraki started releasing ululating cries, screams of war.

She looked to her left and she saw the Wildlings who sat on their ice mammoths and bears as they let out their screams.

Tormund who sat on a large mammoth with his blades raised was screaming with joy like a child being given sweets. Joanna would have laughed at the sight if they were not about to commit bloody murder

Wun Wun and the other giants jogged with their branches intact as they joined the scream.

Her wolves had them all beat as they let out howls when they started descending down the hill to the Lannister formation that was being set up.

But one scream dwarfed all the other screams.

When three dragons descended from the sky. The scream was earth shattering.

Aeryon and Rhaegal were now slightly in front of her as they approached the Lannister shields.

She was now meters away from the Lannisters that stood in a defensive formation and it would have held them but the flames that were released from the dragons on the front flanks. There was no defense against that.

It gave her the opening she needed as she charged inside the heart of their formation.

As agreed upon, the Dothraki didn’t ride straight into the Lannister army. They circled them and rode around them. Keeping a safe distance and attacking anyone that would charge at them if they left the defensive formation.

The Knights of the Vale and the unsullied did an admirable job repelling and shielding the Lannisters back.

Joanna had charged inside with men behind her as she evaded attacks when she leaped off her horse.

She made easy work for those who were foolish enough to come near her. Dancing through the Lannister men like a Braavosi street performer.

There was a very large brute of a man that had startled her but unlucky for him, her wolves had already pounced on his body.

Daeron would occasionally fly in and out as he showered flanks that were still set in defensive perimeters.

The rest of the Northmen and the Wildlings had rode past the Lannister defenses; their mission was to ride for the Dornish on the other side of the castle.

It wasn’t long until she spotted the Kingslayer who was looking distraught at the fact that his defense had been broken.

He had been assessing her as she fought and his eyes seemed to be mystified at how she was dispatching the men that would come at her, Joanna thought he was about to charge at her on his steed but Jaimie signaled to a brunette man next to him and nodded. The brunette man with the beard rode away.

A horn was sounded soon after.

The Lannister men dropped their swords and arrows, Joanna signaled to Barristan that they should now only capture the runaways, not murder them.

Jaimie Lannister was brought forward to her on his knees.

‘It seems as if you captured me again’ he said.

The last time when she had captured him in the Battle of the Whispering Wood, it had been luck. If it weren’t for Ghost and the mud then she was sure that Jaimie would have killed her easily. He had been smug even when she had knocked him out cold.

But now he seemed sullen.

‘You are now better with a sword. You actually remind me of someone I use to know’ he said.

She had no response to him and she turned to one of Daeron’s blood riders, the one she knew spoke the common tongue.

‘Rakim?’ she asked him.

The man laughed.

‘Rakharo’ he corrected. She gave him a polite smile as she watched the Lannister men be stripped and searched before they were told to lean on the ground. It gave her some relief that there was a large number of prisoners.

Numbers big enough to man more castles at the Wall. To accompany the Boltons she had put in place.

‘Rakharo I need you to take this man and under no circumstances should you let Tyrion Lannister near him’ she said.

Jaimie who was still on his knees, started to shudder at the mention of his brother’s name.

‘You think he free him?’ the blood rider asked.

It was a possibility but she shook her head.

‘The opposite, I think he will kill him and we need him’ she said.

Rakharo nodded.

‘I will do as you command Khaleesi’ he said.

She shook her head with a grin.

‘I’m not a Khaleesi’ she corrected him.

‘We see you slaughter many men with your blade and your zokla. You are our Khaleesi’ he said before ordering other Dothraki to apprehend the Kingslayer.

She turned to an unsullied general named Greyworm who stood fast and tall awaiting her order.

She nodded as they marched to the front gates of the Reach.

This was going according to plan. To secure the keep with the Knights of the Vale and the unsullied.

Joanna wanted them specifically because they could be disciplined around civilians if there is a need to take the castle.

She would never admit this out loud but Joanna knew how men were and she had seen first-hand what Robb’s bannermen would do when they thought Robb wouldn’t find out.

The gates had been opened for them when they saw the Targaryen flag behind her.

Securing the keep was easy. With Randyl Tarly surrendering, Barristan had been puzzled as he questioned the man who was a Targaryen loyalist during Robert’s rebellion as to why he would support the pretender. The man had said nothing and Joanna actually felt sorry that Sam, a sweet boy, had to grow up under such a father.

She stood on the South tower as she watched on the far end as the armies advanced towards the Dornish camp. She saw Aeryon fly in circles around the castle before Daeron flew him to were her Northmen were marching.

THWACK.

The sound had been sickening. A surprise bolt coming from nowhere before multiple bolts started to get launched into the sky.

Aeryon had been hit in the chest. Viserion had been hit in the leg before he turned back.

Joanna shuddered in horror because Aeryon had flown to close to the Dornish encampment and now Daeron had become a target.

She felt dread rise within her and she wanted her forces to ride faster and sniff out the archers that were manning the scorpions.

That was when she felt a weight land on the Highgarden tower that made it shake. Joanna turned to see a green form look at her intently.

She looked at Rhaegal before turning back to the battlefield were Daeron was trying to keep Aeryon in the sky even though the Dragon wanted to land.

He needed help.

Joanna turned and looked at Rhaegal.

The green dragon nuzzling her and for some reason she could feel his mind.

Correction, she could feel her mind. Like she could always feel Ghost.

Joanna looked towards the south before she bit back a gulp and walked towards the dragon.

**Daeron**

It had all gone to plan.

When he had flown down as their forces charged, Daeron had never seen such a scene.

Dothraki riders charging alongside Giants and Wildlings that were seated on mammoths. Wolves at the vanguard.

And she was also there.

Seeing her charge in front with her sword raised, it was safe to say that Daeron was happy that his role was to fly and direct his dragons because he doubted he could fight with an erection on the ground.

Even as he circled the sky and he saw her charge into the Lannister flank that had been bust wide open.

He saw her leap off her horse and skewer men lift and right.

She was good. She was very good.

Daeron would ask to spar with her.

He circled Highgarden so that he could warn any traitor that their attempts were futile and they were there to take the castle.

They had done so and surrendered.

And when he saw Joanna stand on the South tower facing the Dornish army, he knew she was safe and he decided to fly ahead of the Northmen that were riding forward to meet the Dornish spears.

That was when a large bolt whizzed past him. He looked down and he saw that the Dornishmen were manning scorpions.

He had tried to evade but he had been too low and one caught Aeryon in the chest.

He tried to control him and calm his mind but his dragon was screeching with pain. The cut wasn’t that deep but his dragon had such hard skin that he was so unaccustomed to feeling pain.

It was a struggle for him to bring him in the air and he could see on the ground that the Dornish were readying their scorpions.

In the distance he saw the Northmen approaching but they were still too far.

He couldn’t stay up there because Aeryon was still a target. Daeron decided to land him near the bank of a small river.

Daeron immediately jumped down and attempted to remove the spear wedged in his dragon.

Aeryon screeched loudly and the sound was deafening.

When he had gotten it out, he saw a gush of a slight wound on his son and Daeron pet him gently before taking sand and rubbing it on the dragon.

(Go in the water my boy) he told Aeryon in Valyrian. Aeryon went in the bank as Daeron stood on the shore.

Dornish riders had approached where he stood and they foolishly drew their spears as they advanced on him thinking that they had brought down his mighty dragon with a lucky bolt.

Daeron took their lives easily and Aeryon jumped out the water and blew a jet flame at anyone else who approached.

He jumped back on Aeryon and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the Northmen were close.

Daeron instructed Aeryon to fly into the sky once more making sure to fly extremely high before the scorpions could touch him. A few whizzed past him as he went in the clouds.

Daeron needed a distraction for him to fly down and cause panic with his flame so that the Northmen could break the defensive formation the Dornish had set up.

That was when he heard another roar.

The roar filled him with dread because he had been happy when his other children had flown away, out of sight and out of danger.

Though he noted something strange, Rhaegal was flying towards the camp but the moment he got too close he would turn around, an action that was very unlike his son, who would always instinctually charge at danger.

Rhaegal did it again and Daeron looked down and saw that the scorpions were changing direction. That was when he realized what Rhaegal was doing.

Daeron then flew down as quickly as he could and blasted a flame on the scorpions that had aimed at Rhaegal before flying up.

They kept doing that until their forces arrived and encamped the Dornish.

When there were no longer bolts being launched at him, Aeryon flew to where Rhaegal had been circling.

Daeron was smiling at his son but his smile disappeared when he saw a black form on the back of Rhaegal.

Many things had shocked him that day.

Seeing wolves and mammoths charge into battle with his Dothraki. Seeing Giants use trees as if they were axes as they smashed flanks to pieces.

He had seen it all but to see Joanna riding his son and not only that but directing him, that had been the greatest shock of the day.

The two dragons flew in a circular motions as they circled each other.

His eyes were wide as he stared at the Queen in the North.

Joanna gave him a sheepish look as if she didn’t fully comprehend what was happening. That she was doing something without realizing what she was doing.

A growl from his dragon made him get his bearings as he flew back to the field to make sure everything was secure.

When a portion of their armies surrounded the Dornish troops, both he and Joanna flew back.

They landed on the tower that Joanna had been watching from before Daeron rode out to attack the Dornish.

He walked down a lane and entered an empty chamber that appeared to be someone’s room.

Joanna had silently followed him.

She had been grimy from battle with her sword and bow attached to her hip. Daeron must have looked the same but in his eyes she looked wildly beautiful.

Their eyes were locked and he had a million questions he wanted to ask her.

_How on earth did you get on a dragon?_

_Why did Rhaegal let you ride him?_

_Why did you even ride him in the first place?_

_How did you control him on your first ride?_

Joanna was eyeing him intently but it appeared as if she didn’t have the answer to any question.

Instead her look became primal.

Their adrenaline was high and they both jumped at each other hungrily. Their lips crashed in a cacophony of bliss, salty from the sweat of battle but their lust had overridden their sense of decorum.

She was just as eager as she grabbed him roughly towards her.

He would have ripped off her clothes then and there but there was a cough and a clearing of a threat from the corner of the room. Both Joanna and Daeron turned to find the piercing eyes of Olenna staring at them.

‘Olenna’ he said with some surprise, Joanna shrunk behind him. ‘Where in seven hells did you come from?’

The old woman raised her brow with a playful smirk.

‘I beg your pardon aren’t you the one who is trespassing, with this being my chambers’ she replied with a tart tongue as she gestured to the room.

Daeron shuffled his laugh, not really embarrassed by the circumstances; living with the Dothraki had removed that shame out of him.

Joanna on the other hand stayed behind him, like he was her knight to protect her. Olenna seemed to be assessing her more. The Queen of Tarts was in the corner with a cup of wine on the table as she sat acquiescently before she continued.

‘Though given that you stopped two armies outside and one inside my castle perhaps I shouldn’t complain. I had feared that something like this would happen but in my nightmare I would be dead because I assumed you would listen to your clever men, instead of being a dragon’ Olenna stated.

He had remembered their conversation, it was after Barristan and Tyrion had presented counter intuitive plans, one wanted to aim for Kings Landing and the other wanted Casterly Rock. The same that had happened weeks ago when they were at the Neck but thank the gods for Joanna.

‘Circumstances changed’ he said.

Olenna smiled brightly as she eyed Joanna with meaning.

‘Evidently’ she said as her eyes still peered at Joanna ‘it appears a Dragon and a Wolf have come to save Westeros. It wasn’t all that long ago when your brother and your aunt brought the realm to its knees.’

‘Nevertheless let me not be the crone that stops your hum of battle. I will tell these fools not to disturb you’

She then stood up and left through an adjoining door.

They waited a few seconds as the door shut with both their chests heaving.

Joanna had a scowl from their interruption and Daeron wondered if she knew how deceptively sexy she was even when she wasn’t trying, though she didn’t seem like she ever tried.

Their kiss was just as electric as the lightening that struck during the storm that he was born in.

They started stripping off their clothes, their tongues never parting. Mud, blood and sweat had covered them fully but proprietary mattered not, only passion.

He groped her flesh like a homeless man would grab a pillow. His eyes shut as he felt her mouth splay kisses on her neck.

Daeron’s hands roamed that strong and sturdy figure that he often thought of when he saw her train.

He felt safe with her, like she could protect him. He wanted to protect her as well.

He…loved her.

He knew that he did, it was too soon. They had known each other for no more than four moons. It had taken longer for him to know with Missandei but with Joanna it felt instant.

He could feel her needling him, she wanted him inside her.

‘Please’ she muttered.

Daeron opened his eyes so he could appreciate her true naked form.

But in opening them he saw her adorned with scars that gave him pause. He was about to ask but Joanna shook her head.

He just nodded and he picked her up and led her to a bed as he sheathed his warmth inside her.

She yelped releasing breathy moans as he thrust within her.

When she had come undone and was shaking beneath him, he grinned, but then she quickly turned the tables and flipped them over and rode him like he was a stallion.

His release was quick as he yelled and cursed in valyrian..

The two of them lay there in Olenna’s room in their nakedness as sleep got to them.

They woke up when the embers of sunlight were fading. Eventually they would have to go check on whether they apprehended the necessary people. They were King and Queen after all.

He assumed things were fine because he saw a few Dothraki handmaidens enter his chambers with a large basin as they poured water for them.

Daeron woke Joanna up and carried her into the tub and they both cleaned each other as they made love once again.

Now the two of them lay in the tub as he caressed the scar in her chest.

Davos had told them that she took a knife in the heart for her people; he had noted how she had glared at Davos to silence when he had mentioned it.

On their way through the Riverlands, he had brought it up but she shrugged him off and stated that it was naught but a figure of speech.

It was at that moment that Daeron knew that Joanna was not a very credible liar.

Whilst conversing with her men in his attempts to get to know her people better, Tormund had told him what happened but everyone attributed the man to be a “crazy ginger.”

But now he realized it was true.

‘Are they still alive?’ he asked her in a hoarse voice.

Joanna knew what he meant given how he caressed her scar. ‘Because if they are then tell me now and Castle Black will be ash by dawn.’

She slightly stiffened.

‘You’re telling me your dragons are that fast?’ she asked in jest but that did nothing to lift his mood.

She then sighed.

‘I killed them, all of them. Hung them before they reanimated’ there was a hint of shame and guilt in her tone that infuriated him. She had done nothing wrong.

‘They deserved it’ he snarled.

‘Aye perhaps but one of them was a little boy, no older than Rickon’ she said as she traced her hands on his cheek. ‘He had been the one to deliver the killing blow. I wanted to feel angry when I saw him die but I felt nothing. All I saw was a little boy with so much pain.’

Her fingers were tender on his jaw as he nuzzled into her.

‘I had asked Ser Alliser why he would do it. Even if he had been successful, it would mean his death and he had told me that he was doing his duty, protecting the watch. Told me it wasn’t personal, said that if it were then he wouldn’t have given me a clean death, he would have let those men have their way with me’ she said silently.

He clenched his fist in rage.

‘He was a coward. From what I saw today, if you had your blade you would have killed all of them easily. But they killed you in that way. That’s what this world is, a cesspit of violence and blood. Rape and greed, a world were kindness is considered weakness, and all of the above are considered strength. That is the system I want to change, to stop the people from suffering’ he replied.

She said nothing to that.

They both lay in the water as it went from hot to lukewarm.

‘I rode a dragon today’ she commented.

He nodded.

‘I rode a fucking dragon’ she said again with a laugh.

He smiled.

‘I noticed, care to explain what happened?’ he asked her.

She shook her head.

‘I thought you were in danger and Rhaegal came to me. It’s almost like she knew what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go, it’s weird cause it felt like the tether I have with Ghost’ she said.

It didn’t fully answer his many questions. Rhaegal had burnt Quentyn Martell when the fool had tried to ride him. Perhaps that is why Dorne were foolishly backing the pretender. Daeron had also noticed how she called Rhaegal a “she”

‘And how did it feel?’ he asked her.

‘Exhilarating’ she replied. ‘I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body. Is that how you feel?’

He laughed but he nodded.

She smiled dreamily

‘Mayhaps our child will feel the same and he or she will ride Viserion.’

Daeron dipped his head and climbed out of the tub. He got dressed and Joanna stared at him with a befuddled look.

When he was dressed, he finally looked at her.

‘Joanna I should’ve told you this earlier but I can’t have children’ he said as he held himself.

He explained what happened with the witch and told her every single detail.

She had kept quiet during his explanation.

‘I keep hoping that the witch was wrong and that she was lying but I don’t want you to grow your hopes up only for you to be disappointed in the future.’

‘I love you’ he said.

Joanna said nothing and Daeron left her with her thoughts as she sat in the bed.

He found Ser Barristan in the courtyard, giving out instructions.

Daeron was relieved to see him well.

‘Ser Barristan’ he said as he saw people bowing their heads before leaving. ‘I am glad to see you well.’

The old man nodded.

‘As am I, I thought you were taking your rest, Lady Olenna said as much’ Barristan commented. There was a question in his tone but he ignored it.

‘I did but I am here for an update’ he said.

‘The Kingslayer and his men are tied up. Tyrion has been sulking all day because the queen ordered your Dothraki to not allow them to see one another’ Barristan replied.

That had surprised Daeron but also made him happy; his men had taken to Joanna quite easily.

‘We shall have to change that; I will not have men in chains. I only request that they march to the wall as soon as is feasible’ he said.

‘I have already convened with the Kingslayer, he seems amenable to that arrangement, apparently he had wanted to do that in the first place but Cersei had advised him to do otherwise’ Barristan stated.

He gave that situation some thought.

‘Perhaps we can placate Tyrion by giving him a few men so that he can go and take Casterly Rock’ he suggested.

Barristan shrugged.

‘What of Dorne?’ he asked.

‘Arianne had ordered her men to take the Reach; she used her lover Gerold Dayne to lead them. Ashara is conversing with her cousin at this very moment. She needed the distraction, considering…’ Barristan didn’t finish but he didn’t have to. Daeron had assumed that his antics with Joanna would have been noticed by his advisors.

‘The Northmen are following the wolves to hunt any stragglers. They seem more agreeable to you now that they have seen a dragon in battle’ Barristan said with a smile. ‘The Wildlings especially, they keep calling you a god.’

Daeron rolled his eyes but he was happy nonetheless.

‘Until I wasn’t, the Dornish caught me off guard; I almost repeated history like Rhaenys when they killed her. I have to be careful because I know that pretender will be packed to the brim with them’ he muttered.

‘I also need to sharpen my skills with my blade, I use to be fifteen to one but today I took ten men and felt tired, with the need to get back an Aeryon’ he added.

Barristan smiled, he had constantly wanted to train with him.

‘How did you fare?’ he asked Barristan.

His hand laughed.

‘I thought that being as old as I am that I would struggle but I managed fine. Though much of that was very much thanks to your queen’ Barristan stated with a fond smile. ‘She carved through almost twenty men like they were paper and she knocked Gregor Clegane back before her wolves finished him off. When I spoke to Jaimie we both remarked on how she fought like someone we once knew.’

He sat down in the chair as he looked at his hand.

‘Was Lyanna Stark a fighter?’ he asked. ‘Because Olenna inferred the same thing, she even compared me to Rhaegar and her as Lyanna due to our looks I suppose.’

He didn’t like her insinuation of their relationship but he did often wonder about his older brother that Barristan often thought of as kind and good man. Barristan shook his head at Daeron

‘We weren’t talking about Lyanna Stark, funny enough we were talking about Rhaegar. She fights like him, her speed whenever she moves her blade. It’s very similar, though Joanna parried more like this knight who we once saw at the Tourney of Harrenhall. Your father actually ordered your brother to hunt the Knight down, the Knight of the Laughing T…’

Barristan stopped himself.

‘Ser Barristan?’ he questioned wondering why his Hand had a grave look on his face. Barristan looked like he was figuring out something.

‘It’s nothing your grace’ Barristan finally spoke but Daeron wasn’t convinced.

He just nodded and bid the man goodnight.

He was about to leave the courtyard before Ser Barristan called for him.

‘Your grace’ he said. ‘Joanna rode your dragon today?’

Daeron nodded and smiled.

‘It was quite remarkable, I am still in disbelief myself, and I was surprised when I saw her on top of Rhaegal’ he said.

Barristan nodded gravely.

‘You didn’t order them?’ Barristan asked him.

Daeron shook his head.

‘I don’t give them orders. They do their own will, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Rhaegal always seemed very interested in Joanna’ he replied.

‘The dragon you named after Prince Rhaegar’ Barristan commented.

He nodded and wondered what he meant by that.

Barristan straightened his face and gave him a chaste smile.

‘Good night your grace’ he said

Daeron entered back into Olenna’s room and was happy to see her sit on the bed.

A part of him feared that she wouldn’t want him back after this. He knew Joanna wasn’t that cold but children could be a deal breaker.

And Daeron would never let her be with him if she did not want. Even if the thought hurt him.

Because he loved her.

He had admitted it.

He loved Joanna Snow.

She smiled at him as he sat down.

He kept quiet but remained close with his head down.

‘Daeron’ she said softly.

He finally looked up.

‘I’ve been pretending my whole life. In Winterfell I pretended to be unassuming, pretended that I didn’t have ambitions so that I could avoid giving truth to whatever labels Lady Stark had whispered about me. I even pretended to be a Stark even though I am truly not, no matter how much I try. I pretended so much so that I even had my brother take me to Heart Tree to make it so.’

‘My whole life has been built on pretend. But that pretense has kept me safe, it’s kept me sane. Pretending to be the meek unassuming bastard of Winterfell, pretending to have no ambitions, it made me less of a target. Things started to go wrong when I wanted more. When I wanted to be a Stark even if I had to marry my own brother, but he died for it. When I wanted to save all the innocent Free-Folk, it got me a knife in the heart. A part of me thought that pretending to be the Bastard might be better than being a Queen.’

She sighed and looked in his eyes.

‘But then I took Winterfell and then I met you and I understood that I might not be alone. That I don’t have to pretend. That I could be a queen that I could survive the Long Night and I can be with someone and finally be loved by someone who I love back’

His eyes widened when she said that.

‘I don’t think your witch was being truthful but even if she was, I don’t care. I will not pretend anymore. Not when I know what this feels like.’

Daeron nodded eagerly before he kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter 
> 
> Daeron and Joanna take Kings Landing.
> 
> Joanna gets interesting news.


	4. We Are Who We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time is not linear.

****

**Joanna**

What started out as a good day had quickly turned into a bad one.

She had been woken up happily, despite the sickness she had felt that had her running out her tent to go puke, a reaction she dumbed down to Tormund and his weird brew that he constantly wanted to force down all their throats.

It had suddenly became a very bad day despite the fact that she no longer lived in the comfort of the Reach and she couldn’t relish the feather beds of Highgarden. Despite her being in the Crownlands and marching to the Capital to go and meet with this pretender to discuss terms.

She had been happy because she had woken up in his arms, with one of his hands caressing her back and the other holding the scar to her heart with his palm. It was a habit she had noticed he had developed. She found it sweet and relished having the man that she loved in her tent.

And she would admit it.

She loved him.

They had a connection that she couldn’t fight even if she wanted to and she didn’t want to.

The two of them had stopped playing up their pretenses and had stopped hiding what was obvious to everyone else.

She knew that certain Lords wanted to chide her for having him share her bed before they had wed but none spoke up.

A good thing because she would react harshly, she may be a queen but to some of them she had always been a bastard and would not follow their rules of decorum.

Especially when she knew what this felt like. This love of theirs. To see Daeron smile at her with those amethyst eyes that sparkled like jacaranda rubies. To have him inside of her as he filled her up and constantly broke her walls and made her yelp in bliss as she clung onto that big strong body of his.

She would never give it up because she was happy, happier than she had ever been in her life.

But today had been a bad day.

‘How many people know?’ she asked as she looked at the raven scroll.

Davos scratched his beard solemnly.

‘She sent ravens all across Westeros, informing every house of importance of who you are. I assume King Daeron knows, Olenna would have told him secretly but with regards to our men I am not sure’ Davos replied.

The scroll had shattered her world.

She had been oh so jubilant when she read that Bran and Arya had returned home, she had screeched with joy that they were well and safe. News like that would have made her weep but it’s what followed that changed everything she knew.

_‘I Sansa Stark of Winterfell,_

_Do hereby proclaim the safe return of Brandon Stark and Arya Stark._

_All three of us would like to inform the realm of news that our Father, Ned Stark, had kept secret. The Queen in the North, Joanna Snow, is not in fact our Father’s daughter._

_Her seal is Visenya Targaryen. True born daughter of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen._

_As such my siblings and I stand behind the true queen of the six kingdoms and no one else. And we support her as an Independent North._

_Long may she reign.’_

Davos had been giving her looks of sympathy and understanding. Looks that comforted her and angered her at the same time.

All her life she had been treated as the Bastard of Winterfell.

How often had Lady Stark looked down on her with disdain and mistrust, encouraging the ladies in Winterfell to whisper and gossip about her negatively.

How many men had tried to make a pass at her and would then remind her of her status when she refused them.

She suffered all that only for it to be untrue.

‘Would you like to speak about it your grace?’ Davos asked.

‘I’m going to take a walk’ she said dismissively. ‘Go and monitor my men and make sure the news hasn’t caused the chaos that has been intended by that fucking scroll.’

Joanna was making her way to a clearing to bask in the sun but she saw Barristan approaching and she hid her groan.

‘Your grace’ he greeted.

She didn’t respond and gave him a look of impatience.

‘I just wanted you to know that I had my suspicions about the most recent news. When I met you, I knew there was something about you. You seemed so familiar to me. Everyone had compared you to your mother and I could understand why. Your coloring and the way you ride are quite evident. But you are your father’s daughter. Everything about you reminds me of Rhaegar, from your temperament to the way you wield a blade’ Barristan had stopped speaking as tears filled his eyes. ‘I knew your father very well, he was a good man, a man filled with sadness but a man who also loved deeply. If you’re interested in getting to know him then let me know.’

The man walked away.

Joanna realized she hadn’t given much thought about her true parents.

How long had she wanted to know who her mother actually was but was constantly denied the revelation from her father.

And her father wasn’t even her real father. Her father was the elusive Rhaegar Targaryen. She had heard mixed stories depending on who she had spoken to.

Lords like Glover would call him a rapist and a murderer, yet Lord Manderly would speak differently and say that he was comely man and took after his mother. Her Grandmother. Daeron’s mother.

Gods!

Daeron often avoided the subject out of fear that he may upset her but she knew that he held Rhaegar in high esteem.

She didn’t know what to do and how to feel so she went to the clearing and cried.

Joanna didn’t know how long she had cried but she did.

Until her tears were no longer coming out and she sat there in silence.

Her silence was finally interrupted when footsteps approached the clearing she sat in, her wolves started growling but Joanna held up her hand to calm them when she realized it was Ashara who was making her way towards her.

The woman stared at her with something lurking behind those violet eyes.

‘I remember all those years ago when Ned brought you and my brother’s sword as he presented it to me’ Ashara said sadly.

The woman stepped forward and took a seat next to her.

‘I was so angry, I was so hurt. Not only had the man I cared for, come to me a married man with a son. Not only had our child died and not only had he killed my brother. He had brought you, a bastard he had begotten with some whore. If only I had known, if only I had thought for a minute’ Ashara added.

Joanna said nothing even as Ashara enveloped her in her arms.

Here she was being comforted by the woman she thought would be her mother only that wasn’t real, her mother was always there in Winterfell in the Crypts.

The thought made her weep and she hated doing so in front of Ashara.

But the woman just held her as if she were a babe.

‘I understand your pain but you must remember there are people who care for you and right now he is losing his mind about not knowing how you feel’ Ashara said.

A feeling of guilt washed over her.

She had completely forgotten about Daeron and what he must be feeling, though she slightly felt upset about being told about it.

‘My whole world has been shattered by a single truth, am I not allowed having a minute to myself?’ she asked in frustration.

Ashara winced at her tone but she smiled gently.

‘The thing is, you don’t have to do it alone. He loves you, you know’ Ashara said with a sad voice.

‘And that bothers you? Because you love him’ she replied quickly.

Ashara looked away for a brief moment but turned back to her.

‘I do, so much so that I would do anything for him in order see him happy. I would fight against my own family, I would lay my life for him. I am about to fight a boy that I raised as my own son for him. I would do anything for him, even to let him go to someone he loves more than I have ever seen him love anything else’ Ashara declared.

Joanna was speechless at the declaration, not expecting Ashara to be so forward and kind.

The woman had only spared her pained and jealous gazes throughout the time they had travelled from the Neck. To see her act this kindly was a surprise to her but she heeded the woman’s word.

She went to go find him, the man who had her heart

Eventually, Joanna left and found her way to their tent, the unsullied had let her through and she found him inside with his hair loose.

His hand was sticking in the fire as he played with the flames. She had been shocked when he showed her that he truly could not be burnt.

Daeron turned to look at her with hope and tenderness written in his face but there was also a bit of fear.

She gave him a shy smile and he slowly stood up but remained rooted in his position.

‘You came’ he said in a small voice.

She shrugged.

‘I was tired and I needed to sleep’ she said before smiling. ‘And I needed you in my bed.’

There was a hitch in his breath and a hint of surprise.

‘I accepted my brother into my bed Daeron, you honestly think this would bother me’ she said as she pointed between the two of them.

Given how he had his head lowered, it did appear that he thought she would have a problem with their shared blood.

‘I couldn’t find you all day and I assumed you didn’t want to see me that this disgusted you’ he said as he pointed between the two of them.

She was ready to snap at him and tell him that she had just found out her life was a lie but her scowl softened when Daeron saw that she didn’t appreciate his train of thought. She took a deep breath.

‘I needed to be alone but Ashara told me that I wasn’t alone in this, that I had you. She cares for you a lot’ she said instead.

Daeron nodded as he started to move closer.

‘She loves me’ he said as he now stood in front of her. ‘But I can’t love her back, not in the way she wants and not in the way I love you because I do love you more than anything.’

Joanna nodded before their lips met rather aggressively.

She needed him.

‘I love you as well’ she said.

Their kisses became more ardent and whatever clothing they had on was discarded as she unfastened the belt on his breaches.

Before long he was inside her, hitting every single urge within her. She felt whole with him within her as he attacked her body ferociously.

It was a mix and match with their coupling, at some moments it was sweet and passionate then at some moments it was ferocious and almost obscene particularly when they sparred.

They found themselves on the floor on a large fur pelt as they lay near a fire.

‘So how do you feel?’ Daeron asked.

She sighed as she traced his delectable muscly chest that gleamed bright because of the flames near them.

‘A lot of things, I feel sad that I am no longer the daughter of Ned Stark. I feel angry that he kept it from me and let me live my life as a bastard. I feel shame for being angry at all, I was luckier than most’ she said.

Daeron nodded silently and kissed her brow.

‘I want to feel numb to all of it, I don’t like feeling so many things at once’ she added.

Daeron put his hand on the scar to her heart.

‘Do you want to know how I feel?’ he asked her.

She looked at his bright purple eyes and smiled at his endearing gaze as she nodded.

‘I thought I was the last of my house… Our house. Barristan told me stories about my brother Rhaegar and it always pained me that I never knew him. But then I met this stubborn Northerner who yelled at me and told me of an uncle that I never knew of. I’ve grown to love this girl, family or no. I am happy that I am not the only one, that I am not alone.’

She cried once again. Joanna couldn’t remember the last time she had cried so many times throughout the day.

Perhaps when Maester Aemon informed her that her babe did not survive Ramsay’s arrow. She cherished the old maester a lot more now when she considers who he actually was to her.

Daeron held her for however long she cried.

Throughout the night they had made love on and off until she fell asleep in his arms.

‘Thank you Dane’ she said as she lay in his arms.

Dane drew back and for a moment he seemed shocked and gasped before laughing.

‘Dane?’ he asked with a laugh. She had wanted to call him that for some time. Daeron had felt disgustingly formal and she wanted to call him a name that only she could use.

He smiled nonetheless.

‘Who was the last person to call me that? I’m not sure, was it my brother?’ he seemed to be asking himself before he gave her a playful smile. ‘I’m not sure he would be your cup of tea.’

He had barely spoken of his brother, her uncle. But what she knew had disgusted her and brought her anger forth.

‘Well I like the name, Dane. But I could think of a different name for you. How about my husband?’ she asked him.

He smiled.

‘I would like that very much’ he said. ‘As soon as we take the Capital.’

The next few days she had felt better as they rode closer to Kings Landing. They were going to parlay with the pretender.

Personally she saw no point in it but Daeron had insisted that he would try one more time to speak sense into this Aegon. Into the man who was parading around as her dead brother.

It felt strange to acknowledge a whole family that she had never known up until yesterday.

She felt queasy at the thought and held her belly closely.

‘You alright?’ Daeron asked her as they rode at the front of their army. King and Queen leading their forces. With her wolves in front and the dragons in the sky ready to swoop down at any moment.

‘I’m fine Dane’ she said softly.

Dane looked from his horse and stifled a smile at his new pet name.

‘I’ve noticed you have been getting sick in the mornings, perhaps you should see a healer’ he said.

She nodded, she had a suspicion of what it was but Joanna didn’t want to build up false hope, only to crush him if it appeared to be untrue.

‘How shall we deal with Aegon, I assume he will know this news’ she said as she changed the subject.

Daeron frowned but shook his head nonetheless.

‘Nothing has changed, our men are still marching with us. From what I saw of your bannermen, it’s only the Northmen grumbling’ he said.

She nodded and scowled.

‘It’s because Sansa sent ravens declaring the North as independent and me as Queen of the Six Kingdoms, whatever the fuck that means. When I told them that it is not true, they weren’t entirely happy’ she replied.

It was his turn to scowl.

‘How are we dealing with your sister. What she did was dangerously stupid’ he said.

She agreed but that’s what had made her more certain of whom it was that had done it.

‘Sansa didn’t do this’ she stated.

Dane didn’t look convinced as he stared forward.

‘You said that she kept the Knights of the Vale a secret from you when you took Winterfell’ he argued.

She nodded.

‘Yes she did but she was doing it at the behest of a man called Petyr Baelish. I am almost certain that he is behind this’ she could see he still held his doubts.

‘Sansa is many things, she is annoying, petulant, elitist, self-indulgent, self-absorbed, bitchy, arrogant and can be an annoying twat but she is not stupid.’

Dane laughed but she continued nevertheless.

‘Sending that raven is stupid because all it does is make us all fight each other. She proclaimed me is the rightful heir, so it would mean she would expect I take the throne for myself which would be impossible because you still have the larger army and it would only cause senseless bloodshed. Sansa would never do that, I saw her face when she saw the Wight. She wouldn’t cause chaos for power. It only leads to one person only and that’s Baelish. It’s what someone of his reputation would do, the only flaw in his plan was that we fell in love and he probably assumed this secret would ruin us.’

He finally relented as he nodded.

‘Then we shall have to deal with this Baelish person’ he said.

Joanna had a suspicion that Sansa would deal with him herself.

Barristan approached them.

‘Your graces we are approaching the city’ the old knight informed them. He gave her a gentle smile before riding behind them.

Dane signaled for her to follow him as he galloped away.

She followed despite not knowing his intentions.

It was only when they reached a clearing did he put down the horses.

‘Why are we here?’ she asked him.

He kept quiet but a small smile was on his face. That was when two large forms dropped down from the clouds and landed between them.

**Daeron**

They waited for at least an hour or two as they sat by the dragons. Joanna grew impatient and restless from time to time and kept asking when they should fly and join them.

He smiled and told her that it was an important tactic to stall them and draw fear within their enemy.

She rolled her eyes but Daeron knew that she had a sent a signal for her wolves to be at the meeting when they arrived. He had been able to start identifying when she was communicating with her wolves.

Her face would always turn broody, though that was not a clear distinction with when it came to Joanna.

She always looked serious and to those that didn’t know her wouldn’t be able to read her, she often appeared intimidating and scary. This Northern Queen who is beautiful and strong that could slit your throat as easily as she would peel an orange.

It was day and night with who she really was.

Joanna was a kind person with a good heart.

He had told Joanna that’s how she appeared and she had laughed, harder than he had ever seen her laugh before, saying that is exactly how he appeared to her.

When he had gotten tired of Joanna impatiently tapping her foot, he stood up and told her it was time.

Together they both flew to the neutral location outside the city and Daeron got an aerial view of the Red Keep. The city was packed as far as he could tell and people seemed to look up at the sound of the dragons. He noticed that on the city walls there were men placed there, ready to fire bolts from the scorpion and Daeron made a mental note for Viserion to stay behind him.

He spotted the golden army packed inside the gates and he saw the Dothraki, Unsullied, Free-Folk, Vale and Northmen outside it.

They swooped down to a central area with seats, where they saw people standing up to look at the both of them.

The moment they landed he noticed that the wolves had approached to act as their escorts. Hurricane stood firmly by his side as they walked together.

Joanna had huffed earlier when his Dothraki handmaidens had dressed her in their house garb. She had always leaned to her usual black but Joanna was not a random soldier.

She was a warrior queen.

Visenya Targaryen come again, literally.

He had dressed her in black and red. She had looked resplendent and while he appreciated her in any shape or form, he would admit that she looked fierce, what a vision they probably made as they stepped into the circle with their dragons swooping into the sky with loud roars as they walked into the pit with fucking direwolves at their back. Side by side as if they were born to rule.

Wun Wun had released a shout that sounded more like a roar and he saw that Joanna had tried to stifle a laugh as she noticed the concerned looks on the opposition’s faces.

Daeron didn’t bother to look at the pretender or his entourage. His message was clear, the only reason he was here was for the people.

Everyone had always forgotten about the people.

He often felt guilty when his mind strayed from saving them but he would always want to protect them. That was who he was and as much as he would like to torch his enemies, he needed to try for the people.

Daeron would only spill the blood of his enemies, not the blood of the innocent.

It was only when he sat down with two chairs reserved for both Visenya and him, did he assess the opposition.

His eyes splayed to the bald headed man, Varys, he knew the man from Tyrion’s description. Though how Tyrion had described him differed from the man who he saw. Davos had even been wrong as well.

The old man had said that the spider knew everything and knew what they ate for breakfast but looking at this man, it appears as if he were clueless as to what was happening and Daeron detected a hint of fear on the man’s face.

Though he would not be fooled by appearances. Hadn’t this man almost succeeded in killing Missandei and their child. He had sent Jorah as well.

His gaze then turned to a red haired man that could be none other than Jon Connington, former hand to his father and friend to his brother Rhaegar.

Connington’s gaze was focused on one person, Joanna. It seemed as if he had seen a ghost and Daeron felt the urge of possessiveness wash over him, with the need to smack him, to stop him from glaring at her as if he knew her.

He then looked to who sat next to the pretender, the woman was Dornish, a beauty. Tyrion had gone to perverse lengths to describe the woman’s bust but Daeron had only assumed him to be a disgusting degenerate, but he would admit that they were comically large, her back probably ached at the end of each day for carrying those things.

Arianne had a look of discomfort, whether the distaste was due to their presence or the man that sit in between her and Connington, he did not know.

His gaze then fell on Aegon.

Daeron gave him a hard look as if to see if perhaps there was any resemblance. Mayhaps Tyrion had been wrong when he had eavesdropped on Varys.

He studied him intensely.

And all he felt was insulted.

He understood the fickleness that certain people in Westeros may be fooled. Silver hair was an exotic trait for their house but it was common within the houses of the Crownlands and even more so in Lys. If a Northmen had bent the knee to this Aegon, thinking him a Targaryen, he would excuse the lot of them.

But others should have known better and he suspected some did know better.

With Joanna it wasn’t obvious but she did have a bit of Viserys in her, particularly when she grew upset. Her hair was long but her curls reminded her greatly of her brother. Tyrion who had met Aegon had said the only thing the two of them shared was their coloring, which to the imp wasn’t sufficient proof because a Dornishmen may have black hair like a Northmen but that doesn’t make them Starks.

Daeron turned to the two men next to Varys who he suspected knew all along. The man was fatter than he had even remembered, if that was even possible.

‘Illyrio’ he said with a humorless smile.

The man chuffed in the way he had always done when he would flatter Viserys on some Stag-shit.

‘Prince Daeron it has been awhile’ Illyrio said.

Daeron chuckled but the laugh had no humor.

‘Indeed’ he said in a curt tone.

Illyrio smiled chastely as he rubbed his stubby fingers and it was then that Daeron noticed that he sat in two chairs.

‘I am glad you have finally come. Your nephew sought to reward me for keeping you and Viserys safe all those years ago’ Illyrio stated.

The statement made him flex his jaw but he felt Joanna lean her hand to his side in order to calm him down.

‘I always knew not to trust you and I always thought Viserys a fool for it. But even I had to admit that I never expected you to be the architect of this’ he said as he waved around to where he sat with his companions, his eyes then caught on the golden haired general next to him with sandy blonde hair.

‘If only my brother could be here now to know the two of you were in cahoots, he would be livid. Though I have to admit that I am impressed that you haven’t aged that much since I was a boy and you laughed out my brother from your camps when he asked for your help. You should tell me your secret, most Volantene men age like milk unless you have a red ruby I don’t know of.’

Harry Strickland smirked but kept quiet.

Illyrio spoke up again.

‘I sense hostility from you my prince, I thought you would be grateful for my assistance’ Illyrio stated.

‘And what would I be thankful for exactly? For bartering me to the Dothraki or for having your bald friend here undermine my brother Rhaegar to my father. All so that you can sit your son on my throne, a fucking Blackfyre’ his gaze had darted to Aegon whose blue eyes widened at what he had said.

Varys and Strickland kept straight faces but Illyrio didn’t do as well as his friends.

‘Next time you scheme in a hallway you should ensure that a dwarf can’t hide beneath you’ Varys face cracked at that statement.

Daeron wished that Tyrion had been here and hadn’t sailed to Casterly Rock, he would’ve enjoyed the moment that he revealed the truth to everyone.

There were gasps from both sides and harsh whispers everywhere.

It was the laugh of Aegon that brought everyone to silence. The pretender had gotten over his shock.

Daeron would give him credit that he had an aura about him. It seemed as if he were born a prince.

But it wasn’t him who spoke, it was his wife.

‘Your greed for the throne knows no bounds. Your nephew sits here alive and well but you would brand him a pretender because of your lust for power. I shouldn’t be surprised, after what you did to Quentyn’ Arianne spat.

Daeron snorted, he was having none of it.

‘Your fool of a brother was as stupid as he was ugly. He tried to mount my dragon, thinking himself a Targaryen and he got burnt. If a man jumped in the river in my castle when he can’t swim would you blame me for his death as well?’ he asked her, making sure to be as patronizing as possible. It sparked an idea in him as he watched Aegon who was staring at Ashara longingly.

‘But you brought up a fantastic point princess, you claim to be my family and one of my dragons, Viserion, is without a rider. Perhaps this is all a simple misunderstanding’ he said. ‘After all I had a vision of your father when he told me that the dragon has three heads.’

Joanna had shifted uneasily when he said that and he noticed how she momentarily clutched her belly.

Aegon just smiled.

‘You are everything and more than I expected Uncle Daeron but I am afraid this façade of a meeting has grown tiresome. I was happy to meet you and thank you for bringing me my long lost sister’ Aegon said as he smiled at Joanna.

Joanna remained impassive, her gaze not betraying anything, only coldness and a scowl that told her that she didn’t think much of Aegon.

‘But we are here to talk terms’ Aegon stated. ‘And I am here with a generous offer.’

Daeron smiled.

‘Good because I accept your surrender’ he said evenly.

Aegon laughed but none of his advisors joined him, Daeron knew why. A few of them knew who he was in Essos and every man that had laughed at what he did or said were all dead now.

‘Quite an offer though one that seems inequitably unfair, after all I am the heir by rights and whilst I understand your campaign led you on a path to be king, the rules of legality speak for me and only me. But I am willing to make an offer. Lady Sansa Stark gave us the idea in fact. All six kingdoms will kneel to me, all of them except the North of the neck and beyond. I will give the North to my sister and you can rule by her side, in return I will assist you in the battle against the Others. A fair offer when you consider that the North is just as big as all the other Kingdoms combined’ Aegon said. ‘So what do you say?’

His voice had been soothing, a man born for political speeches. A part of him now understood why some might have been fooled but he would not yield to the Blackfyre. Barristan had looked angered as he stared at the boy, not only was he a remnant of the house he thought he had wiped out but he was also proclaiming to be Rhaegar’s son.

It was at that moment that Daeron knew the meeting had to come to an end and he was ready to show them what a dragon thought of that offer.

But he heard a chuckle next to him and everyone’s face turned to Joanna.

The other side looked confused as to what she found funny but the people on their party looked amazed.

Joanna never laughed unless she was alone with him.

‘Something to say sister?’ Aegon asked.

Joanna smiled but it was one of sympathy.

‘You have no idea do you? They actually have you fooled, you genuinely believe you are Aegon Targaryen’ her tone was empathetic as she studied him. ‘You aren’t him by the way. All my brothers are dead, only one lives and he is in the North.’

Aegon looked ready to argue with that polite smile of his, that Daeron was starting to get sick off.

‘Do you know who I am?’ she asked him, her voice was serious.

Aegon shrugged as if to humor her.

‘No you don’t because if you did then you wouldn’t even need to think twice. Though I suspect you know who he is and yet you’re here trying to bargain with us’ she said.

‘King Daeron has taken on slave masters, Dothraki Khals and warlocks. He has the largest army ever amassed in the history of existence and what do you have? Besides shiny boys in shiny armor holding their cocks in their hands’ she said.

There she was, that side of Joanna that she had always tried to temper down. The one that had shamed him when she brought up Maester Aemon. Her temper had seemed familiar to him and now he knew it was the dragon within her that was coming out. Visenya Targaryen.

Strickland bustled about and it appeared as if Aegon’s patience was running short. But Joanna had held their attention now

‘We have Dothraki blood riders, we have unsullied soldiers, we have northmen, we have the fucking knights of the Vale, we have wildlings we have bears, we have giants, we have direwolves. _Boy_ we even have fucking dragons.’

‘You have what? Elephants?’ she said with a snort. ‘Well we have mammoths. You have no bargaining power here. You are a pretender sitting on our throne.’

Aegon was now frowning. Daeron wanted nothing more than to take her there and now.

‘And what of the people, you would kill them just to get to me?’ Aegon asked them

He noticed Varys smiling, they knew that was their weakness and Daeron hated them even more for it.

Joanna did well to hide her discomfort, her moment of anger had slipped away. Daeron assumed her rage had come because Aegon had dared to call her sister.

‘Aegon I may be a Targaryen but I am also a Stark. If you knew anything about me then you would know I am a warg’ her voice was gentle but firm. ‘I have a connection with my wolves, I can feel what they feel. And dire wolves have a strong sense of smell, so strong that they can smell the emotions that one is emitting. My wolves smell the fear on all of your men and advisors, everyone except you, which makes me believe that you genuinely think you are who they say you are even if they don’t.’

‘You don’t have to die for their crimes. Surrender, all of you should surrender. There is another war to fight. Do not die for some lie’ she stared at Aegon.

Aegon was quiet for a moment, his gaze seeking Ashara for a brief second and Daeron could see some hesitation.

But he shook his head.

‘You have heard our terms, if you wish to fight against us then so be it’ Aegon said as he stood up.

Daeron nodded.

‘Let it be known I tried and when the time comes, everyone will know who to blame when the sky falls upon them’ he said as he stood up as well.

He turned and walked away with Joanna following him.

Daeron sat alone in his tent when he saw Ashara stand before him.

‘Your grace, allow me to go speak to him’ she said.

Daeron shook his head.

‘I will not have them capture you Ashara. They would take you hostage and use you against me’ he said with a shake of his head.

Ashara disagreed.

‘No they won’t. I know Egg and he is only persisting because he doesn’t know who to trust. I can convince him, I know I can’ her voice was desperate but Daeron wasn’t going to budge.

Ashara deserved a happy life and he would not let her go into harm’s way before she lived one.

‘Let her go’ Joanna said as she appeared in the tent..

He turned to her in surprise

‘I know a puppet when I see one, and Aegon is one. Let her do it’ she said.

Daeron sighed as he watched both women have a silent conversation between themselves.

‘Let them know that if I don’t hear back from you within a day then I have considered your life forfeit and your death would mean that I shall turn them all to ash’ he said in a harsh voice.

Ashara nodded before making her way.

He nursed his temple as Joanna held him.

‘Earlier you said something about the dragon having three heads. You said you saw my father mention it in a prophecy’ Joanna said with a small smile.

He turned and nodded as he thought back to his vision to the House of the Undying.

‘It appears it may be true, I saw a healer and she told me that I am with child.’


	5. An Unblinking Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter

**Joanna**

Have you ever seen a city on fire? Joanna hadn’t seen it before.

Where buildings are burning like a furnace, where the skies are as black as a blind man’s sight. Where the air is only filled with the fumes that are generated by the smoking towers.

The only sounds you hear are the screams of those that hadn’t been fully burnt alive.

Joanna had seen all the horrors that a battle brought. But fire was never the cause.

Even when Robb would slaughter camps, they would never burn the men or their tents. During war they would try to procure every single item of clothing and food they could accumulate.

But now she had seen a city on fire.

The sight had been traumatic. The most heartbreaking scene was seeing a little girl running past her with flames all over his body. Her screech would haunt her forever.

It made her think of the sister she never knew, Rhaenys. She had been in this city in the darkest of times. Her fate had been similar.

Joanna put a hand protectively over her belly covering it from the darkness that always permeated in the Capital.

Her child would be born to this city one day.

It was a bittersweet thought.

On the one hand she was happy to have a babe inside her but on the other she feared for the child. A crippling fear that threatened to swallow her whole.

There was still a war to come and she feared that the army of the dead would take her child.

Daeron had taken the news differently after she told him of the babe. At first he had been too stunned to say anything; he had disappeared for the whole night as they were camped outside the city.

She hadn’t seen him the next day either but he ended up in her tent the next night with a bright smile on his face. He had told her that he had kept his space because he didn’t want to say anything stupid because he wanted to suggest that she stay out of every battle from now on.

It was smart of him to rethink that train of thought because she would have ignored him. Now was not the time to be picking and choosing who did what, not with the threat they face.

All had seemed good as he clutched her belly but that was when the bell sounded.

The bloody fucking bells, how relieved the both of them were to hear them.

In that moment the two of them had thought Ashara had been successful in her venture. That she had managed to convince Aegon to surrender. That their fight to unite all the seven kingdoms would be without bloodshed in its final tilt.

Joanna should have known better than that. There would always be bloodshed and they learnt it the hard way an hour later.

Both Dane and her wanted to ride into the city with their forces and take the city peacefully, everyone was abuzz to the sound of the bell ringing loudly.

In the midst of their celebrations, Davos had told them to wait; he had said that he never knew Bells to mean surrender.

And wait they did, on the crest of the hill as the two of them sat on their dragons.

Joanna didn’t know what was worse, the sight or the sound.

A green fire so powerful that it leveled half the city.

Whatever she had felt, Daeron felt it even more so. It was the first time she had seen him cry so violently. It didn’t help that the survivors looked up at their dragons in fear.

The people who had stayed inside the city walls, those that survived at least. Decided that this was the opportune moment to escape. The Golden Company offered little resistance; they were also in shock as to what had happened.

They sent their men in to take the keep and in hindsight it was a risky and foolish move, the wildfire could have been set off once again and would have consumed their men but at the both of them were past the point of caring.

The city was on fire and they needed to help who they could.

It angered her a lot when she saw that the palace buildings and those that managed to live lavishly were untouched by the destruction. It also spiked her rage to see the Golden Company stand there in full force.

She would admit that she was slightly disappointed when she saw all of them drop their swords when their forces approached them.

Daeron had flown away to the Red Keep to go find Ashara and assure she was safe before returning and helping her ensure the well-being of the citizens.

They had tied up the men of the Golden Company and Joanna was thankful for the arrival of the Greyjoy fleet because they managed to blockade those that wanted to flee.

Currently all their armies stood in place in a smoky ruin that she assumed had been the Sept of Baelor.

Daeron was currently belting out a speech to his men before he allowed them to retire.

He went on about the wars to come, switching from Dothraki to Valyrian. Telling everyone there that there is still another fight, telling them that today’s actions were a tragedy that will be righted.

His men cheered and there was a glimmer of hope as she saw her men nod in assent.

But it did nothing to ease the look of pain in his eyes.

Daeron wanted to protect the innocent and he hadn’t managed to. Neither had she.

The next day, Aegon had been put under arrest in the black cells. Connington, Varys and Illyrio as well.

Strickland had been taken out by his men who wanted to break their contract. Their word wasn’t as good as gold after all. Not when gold could easily be melted by a dragon.

From what Joanna had gathered, there had been a power struggle after their meeting with the rest of their men stating that they can’t fight against dragons.

Ashara had shown up with her offer with Aegon to surrender and she implored with the boy to agree. Aegon had relented but he surrendered when he saw Ashara plead with him. Connington had supported him in his surrender and was glad for it.

But Varys. Fucking Varys.

The Spider could not let things be. The spymaster knew about the wildfire that Cersei had left throughout Kings Landing and he had hoped the Bells would lure our men into the city.

A desperate plan if not rather stupid and downright lecherous.

Ashara had explained all of this to them and Daeron had placed them all under confinement before they would be tried.

Joanna had retired after his speech back to her tent whilst Daeron continued helping the people.

When she awoke, she had made her way to the castle.

The Red Keep was beautiful in an ugly way, a part of Joanna wondered if they won the war against the dead, if this place would be her new home.

Though she could honestly care less, as long as she was with Daeron and their child. That place would be home. Because he was her true home

She entered the Keep and was greeted by servants who all bowed to her as if she had always been their queen. Perhaps if her father had survived, she may have become queen and married her real brother.

She was to be Visenya to her sibling’s trio. The thought pained her because even then she would have wanted to marry Daeron.

Daeron himself had been busy, so Joanna sat herself in a room dedicated to the hand.

She took the room in; Ned Stark had died in this place as hand to Robert, the same man who killed her father. It was always surreal as she took in the various details of the tower.

Joanna took her time to do her duties and see what needed to be prepared whether it was damages to the people or food for them to eat and how to organize her men.

‘My father is probably rolling in the Septs, if he were to see you sat in this room, especially in that chair’ a little voice remarked.

Joanna released a small smile as she eyed the golden haired man.

‘Your sister blew up the Septs remember’ she challenged.

Tyrion nodded in a “well played” manner before he walked to the edge of the desk and poured himself a cup of wine.

‘Evidently the Septs weren’t her only target. My arrival to the city was quite the sight, I actually wonder if the smoke will die down’ he said with a tone that was a bit too happy for her.

Joanna bit back her ire and clenched her teeth.

Barristan had wanted them to go to Kings Landing first and mayhaps if they did that instead of her saying they should ride hard for Highgarden, mayhaps they would have saved all those lives.

‘Speaking of Cersei, what of her fate? She has a lot to answer for, given the fact that she was the one who had lined up the wildfire there in the first place’ she said.

Joanna assumed that Tyrion had her killed brutally.

‘I handed her off to Olenna, the woman will want justice for her family’ he replied casually.

That surprised Joanna and Tyrion beamed at her shock.

‘I’m surprised; all your ravings had indicated that you wished to see her dead’ she replied.

Tyrion shrugged.

‘No thought would have given me more pleasure but death is so final, whereas life reeks of countless possibilities’ he said before his voice turned serious.

‘You know when I arrived back in the city; I thought I would be happy to see these people dead. After all they all jeered me during my period as hand, they mocked me during my trial and they cheered when Oberyn lost my trial by combat. But when I arrived I felt hollow. These people weren’t monsters, they were just hive minds who only wanted to survive’ he stated.

She stared at him in contemplation.

‘Why did you spare your sister?’ she asked him. ‘You wanted nothing more than to kill her and you hand her over to Olenna.’

Tyrion put his cup down on a counter that Joanna hadn’t seen. That was when she remembered that Tyrion was once hand of the King and these used to be his quarters.

‘My sister had children, I am sure you know. Whilst I hated Joffery, Myrcella and Tommen were innocent. They’re all dead now’ he said with a sad frown. ‘When I got to Casterly Rock I expected to see a vicious woman but instead I saw a broken mother. In all my years of knowing my sister, all her cruelty and her madness, there was one word I never thought I would hear her utter “mercy”’

His voice had become somber.

‘My niece and nephew were innocent and yet they still died, that’s what happens to children in this world. Revenge hasn’t given me peace, perhaps mercy albeit temporarily depending on the horrors Olenna plans to inflict on her, perhaps mercy is the right course’ he said pointedly.

Joanna just nodded, she felt somewhat pleased by his answer but there appeared to be more to his words.

‘That is why I’m also here’ Tyrion said. ‘I just had a conversation with Ashara.’

Tyrion took a moment to gather himself.

‘Daeron is a remarkable man, a just man and a merciful one who also has a big heart. I used to think that was his weakness but in hindsight it was his greatest strength’ he commented.

Joanna didn’t know whether he was saying it as an insult or a compliment because his tone was neutered.

‘I doubt he would have put a stop to slave trades if he weren’t all those things’ she replied in a slightly defensive tone, not knowing what Tyrion was angling towards.

Tyrion nodded.

‘He is a just ruler but when you cross him, he can be otherwise. Our King kept offering the noblemen and slavers a chance, despite all their protestations and retaliations. But when they ambushed us in the fighting pits of Mereen’ Tyrion said with a “tsk.” ‘That had been the final straw because Daeron came back with a large horde of Dothraki and a dragon at his back and he lay waste to all of them’ Tyrion stated.

Joanna had not known that detail specifically.

‘He may have been fighting for the innocent but some lives were lost that weren’t inherently evil.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

‘Why are you here Tyrion?’ she asked him.

Tyrion rubbed his fingers before sighing.

‘Spare Aegon’ he said.

Joanna shook her head.

‘Aegon will be tried…’ she replied quickly before Tyrion cut her off.

‘For all the time I have known you, you have never been naïve. Aegon will die and so will Connington. Our King is merciful but not when it comes to innocence dying. He will look for justice. Our King is all Fire and Blood’ he stated.

Joanna rolled her eyes.

‘Those are house words and their mine as well. Mayhaps he should take justice on the pretender’ she spat.

‘A child who was raised to believe that they were someone other than who they actually were. I thought you of all people would empathize with that.’

That gave Joanna a slight pause.

Tyrion sighed yet again.

‘Look I would tell him myself but he won’t listen to me. You are the only one who can change his mind. Personally I don’t care what happens to Aegon, I am only doing this because Ashara is anxious for the boy’ he said.

‘That and I am hoping that she may accept me into her bed, should I be successful’ Tyrion added.

She rolled her eyes as she began to leave the room.

Before she opened the door she heard a shout from Tyrion.

‘What would Ned Stark do?’ he asked her. ‘He was a man of honor and he raised you. One of the reasons why I am optimistic about the two of you ruling together is that we will finally have seven kingdoms ruled by a just man and an honorable woman.’

She made her way to the throne room to find him and she did find a sense of satisfaction to see unsullied lining the hallway with House Targaryen banners plastered everywhere.

Joanna knew that was probably Ser Barristan’s doing, Dane honestly would not care.

The roof of throne room had been completely shattered by dragon fire. The two of them had blown it down as a warning to any servant in the castle from any foolish notion of doing something stupid towards them.

When she walked inside she saw all three dragons laying behind the throne.

Dane stood next to it in a trance as he seemed to be reaching out his hand.

Her oncoming footsteps must have interrupted his moment because he turned to look at her.

He gave her a pained smile before he looked back at the chair.

Joanna walked closer to him and for the first time she realized that the air had turned cold, a bad omen for winter and what was to come.

‘When I was a boy and my brother handed me my first blade, he told me about this mythical throne made of a thousand swords of Aegon’s enemies. I imagined that the swords piled up to the size of a mountain. I could never fathom how it looked but then I had this vision, in the House of the Undying. I saw this moment, exactly like this’ he said as he turned to face her.

He looked mythic. Her beautiful Dane who seemed so ethereal and otherworldly.

There was also a tiredness in his eyes but one that veiled his anger.

‘The chair wasn’t as big as I imagined and yet our family has bled for it. People have died for it, innocent people have died for it’ he muttered.

The pain in his voice broke her heart.

‘We never got to speak after what happened’ she said as she referenced the wildfire.

He nodded as he walked down one step.

‘A horrible thing, seeing little children burnt, is a sight that is…’ he didn’t finish as he turned to look at Aeryon who was chirping sadly.

‘It is horrible’ she stated, not knowing what to say. ‘How are you feeling?’

Dane who looked to be almost in a state of tears, sniffed once and set his face into that regal posture that he had when others were around. One that Joanna didn’t like him to have at this current moment.

‘I will be fine when the city is no longer burning. In the meantime these attacks need to be answered. Our retribution must be swift and it must be brutal’ he said whilst pointing angrily to the sky.

Dane was huge and imposing, his muscles matching his stance. Aeryon seemed to be in one mind with his father.

‘Agreed’ she said in a stern tone. ‘To those that deserve judgment. Those responsible for setting it off. Not those that blindly followed along with a lie.’

She knew he knew what they were speaking of, the way his eyes grew harder.

‘People are dead Joanna, little children were burnt alive. I helped a woman who looked at me as if I did it’ he said. ‘Varys and Illyrio conspired to do this for a long time. Their deaths will be poetic.’

His teeth were gritted and Joanna had never seen him that angry. But she did not care about them.

‘And Aegon? Connington?’ she asked him. ‘They were puppets being used. Men who thought they were doing their duty.’

She heard him release a humorless chuckle.

‘The men of the Nights Watch who stabbed you, they thought they were doing their duty when they took your life’ he replied. ‘Yet they deserved their punishment nonetheless. How can you ask me to not take their lives when it’s what justice demands?’

Bringing up that night was a sure fire way to make her scream at him but she took a deep breath. She had many arguments she wanted to bring up. Reminding him that Ashara cared for Aegon deeply but she knew Daeron and there was no point in debating, he only listened to bluntness.

‘Forgive him’ she said.

Dane studied her with an impenetrable gaze but there was a sigh in his eyes.

‘I can’t’ he said.

‘You can, you can forgive all of them, make them understand. He didn’t know who he was, and he was lied to just like I was. Please Dane’ she replied as she looked at him eagerly.

Dane let out a heavy breath.

‘We can’t hide behind small mercies Joanna. Time and time again people have used that against me, and every time that happened, innocent people ended up dead’ he rebuffed.

‘Then make them earn that mercy. Send them all to the Wall and kill Varys and Illyrio here. When the dead arrive, they will be on the frontlines’ she said.

That was her compromise, she had also been angered by what happened but she knew they could do something about it without outright killing men who believed in a lie.

Dane took a moment to consider it but he nodded reluctantly and she smiled as she grabbed his face to kiss him.

They held each other for a moment before they heard the dragons sniff from behind them.

Dane smiled at her hesitantly.

‘My reasons of coming to this castle wasn’t intentioned for this. Tyrion, who I assume was convinced by Ashara, came to me. I agreed with him cause we need their armies but it wasn’t why I had come, you have been avoiding me’ she said.

So many emotions were being expressed by those large eyebrows as he thought of his response.

‘The news of the babe took me off guard, I am happy but I am also terrified. I wanted to gather my thoughts before I said the wrong thing to you. My instinct was to have you locked in Dragonstone until the war with the others was over’ he said as he smiled at the frown that bubbled up on her face.

She knew Daeron was only being honest in his fears but if there is one thing Joanna despised, it’s her being treated like a hen. Robb had often done it and she would more often than not ignore his order and charge into battle.

Joanna knew that there were more ways than one with regards to being a warrior; it didn’t mean that you needed to pick up a sword but that was how Joanna knew how to deal with battles.

‘I find it adorable that you think you could lock me up’ she said with a smile despite her clenched teeth.

Dane’s eyes brightened, he enjoyed ruffling her feathers she could tell. He smiled.

‘You think you could best me in a duel?’ he asked her with a challenging smirk and she felt his sword rise up in his breeches.

She raised her brow at him, trying to hide her smile.

‘Oh I know I could best you in a duel’ her tone was patronizing but he laughed all the same. He seemed slightly offended in humorous way and she felt compelled to continue.

‘I mean don’t misunderstand me, you are a fantastic swordsman. Probably the best I have seen but you’re too performative, you strut like a rooster when you dance. You always go for the most dramatic kill’ she says.

He edged his body closer to hers and she could feel the jitters and electricity spark in her body.

‘Well then, we will have plenty of time to train as we prepare for the final war’ he said with meaning, showing her that he would not be an impediment towards her.

He couldn’t because they needed them both to fight the only war that matters.

‘Just promise you will do your best to keep the both of you safe. Not just for my sake but for yours. I don’t know if you are aware of it but you have nightmares when we sleep and you scream out “Eddard.” I thought at first you missed your father but now I know’ he said sadly.

Joanna bit back her tears; she had never realized that she had done that. Or more so that Dane had noticed.

She silently nodded as he turned to look at his children that seemed to be resting peacefully.

‘I want to burn it’ he said.

She knew he wanted to do. In their time together he often spoke of how he wanted to change things and he would start with the throne.

‘I want to build one for the both of us to sit on’ he said as he looked at her.

She smirked; he had already told her he wanted them to rule together.

‘Marry me on the morrow, I do not want to wait any longer’ he said frantically as he took her arm and put it on his chest.

‘Tomorrow?’ she asked hesitantly knowing that there were many other things that needed to be done. Dane foolishly took her hesitation as doubt and clung to her.

‘Be with me, batter our enemies with me, and build a new world me. I saw this place in a vision, I saw you a mystery women cloaked in black, its destiny. This is our reason, it has been from the very beginning since I was a little boy who could barely hold a sword and you were a girl with a bastard’s name. We do it together, we break the wheel together’ he said.

There was so much love in his eyes, he reminded her of Bran when he used to share his cake that Catelyn would bake for everyone except her, Dane looked like a sweet little boy who had never seen war. Mere minutes ago she had been convincing him to spare the lives of Aegon and Connington, now here he was wanting to marry her like a lovesick fool.

She nodded.

‘Together’ she said before she pulled him towards himself and kissed him.

Joanna had seen a city on fire that week and yet it bothered her as little as it would have if Dane wouldn’t have been there.

They broke their kiss after a few minutes and Dane looked back at the throne with a smile. At first she assumed he was about to burn it but the smile turned into a devious one.

‘Before I let my children burn it, I was wondering…?’ he trailed off with a mischievous look.

Joanna laughed but took his hand and proceeded on to the throne.

She rode him whilst he sat on it and he in turn took her from behind as she held the iron throne. They did that until they lay down breathless and sweaty.

The feeling was exhilarating but it was dwarfed by the flames that melted the throne to its foundations.

It was the morrow and Daeron had gone to inform their council of their plans. Ashara had been so grateful that she hugged her, knowing she was the reason Aegon would be spared.

Aegon bent the knee albeit begrudgingly but he seemed more accepting whenever he looked at Ashara. She had told him that he had refused at first and cared little for his life but Ashara reminded him that his death would hurt her.

The pretender had even given Daeron his sword, the ancient Blackfyre that was wielded by their ancestors.

Daeron wasn’t entirely enamored with it as she was and Joanna would express that she felt some jealousy towards her betrothed as he held it. Though the sword did look good on him. Everything looked good on him.

Varys and Illyrio were going to be burned along with any generals that committed crimes during their stay in the Red Keep.

The rest would begin travelling North in a fortnight. The Golden Company would be manning the other unarmed castles as restitution for taking up arms against them. They would also be joining the Lannisters and the Boltons in the front lines when the army of the dead attack. The Dornish forces would send their spears to the wall and Barristan had grumbled that the punishment had been unfair because they were certain that the Martells knew that the boy had been a pretender.

Joanna had suggested stripping away their principality and Dane had agreed.

Though it’s an action they would only take after the war with the dead was over.

Currently she sat in what she assumed used to be Cersei’s chambers. What with the fancy gowns and Lion stitching.

Every lady of high standing was there. Joanna had at first refused but Barristan thought it necessary. Ashara insisted on it as well saying its tradition that Targaryen Queens are accustomed to.

She couldn’t fight with Ashara because she barely knew if she spoke true. The history that she knew of her house had been of the victories and specific battles that she used to gush over. Sansa probably knew about the tradition.

Joanna would have preferred that her family be here to see her marry the man she loved. But she knew of the impatience of her men.

And in all honesty, she wanted this.

When Sansa and Jeyne would gush over how she would be future queen as she got her husband, it bothered her more than she cared to admit even if she could see Joffery was a cunt. Meanwhile her father rejected her bid to find a proposal for the umpteenth time, it made her jealous.

Now here she was being dressed in white and blue as her hair got brushed out.

She would be queen of the seven kingdoms.

People used to frown down on her and now she would be their queen. How often had women thought they were better than her because of her status as a bastard?

Despite liking Olenna, she sometimes would glare at her as if she wanted her granddaughter to be in her place, like she wasn’t deserving of her title. Though the old lady was happy that they had a love match and was even happier when Joanna suggested that Sansa may take a liking to Willas who despite his competence seemed like a placeholder of a lord. Sansa would definitely like that. Someone brave gentle and strong.

Arianne had not been so discreet in her jealousy and dislike of her and the fact that she got to be queen. But she spoke of none of it due to her role with the pretender.

That is why she enjoyed this tradition all the more as they all watched her be draped in her dress.

Eventually she dismissed all of them even Ygritte, who she had invited because she wanted all the members of their army represented and she enjoyed her brash nature.

Ygritte had eyed the dresses with some intrigue and Joanna laughed.

‘I would like to see you in a silk dress’ she had giggled and the red haired girl rolled her eyes.

Before she left, she had instructed Ygritte to make sure Val was detained because she didn’t want him doing anything stupid on the day she was to be wed.

Ygritte had clearly misread what she meant because a devious smile propped up on her. She knew that Ygritte had planned on stealing Val, the girl kissed by fire had told her that she thought him pretty and would claw Joanna’s eyes out for him.

She immediately left in a rush and Joanna smirked as she touched up her dress.

She felt beautiful as she adorned colors that her mother would have loved as she placed blue flowers on her head. She wondered what her mother would think of her, would she be proud? What of her father? She loved Dane, more than she had ever loved anyone, perhaps this was always her destiny.

Her longing was cut short when her wolves picked up a scent.

Joanna was accustomed to that shared bond, especially with Ghost who accustomed scent with how she knew people.

Arya’s scent reminded her of soft grass because it made her think of all the times they played. Sansa’s was always of a perfume that she loathed, Robb was always of burning wood, the warm thought of their hunts together.

Daeron’s scent was of a warm hearth because his scent smelled like home whenever Ghost sniffed him. Those are the projections she probably gave off to the wolf.

But this scent had fueled her anger. It had been quite some time since she smelt the scent of the musty ocean.

‘Rather foolish of you to come in my presence’ she spat but didn’t turn to look back at him as she continued facing the looking glass.

Her wolves were snarling, picking up on their mother’s mood but Joanna remained stoic and held her belly protectively.

‘You have the nerve and the gall to stand before me on the day I am to be wed’ she said as his reflection came in the mirror.

He was slouched down, looking shamed, far changed from the braggart cunt that he used to be as a boy.

Theon was dressed well and looked to be clean shaven and bathed and dressed in fine leather for her wedding.

‘I heard about your victory against your uncle, they said he caught you and your sister in a naval battle. That the battle had seemed in his favor. That your mad uncle was trying to murder the lot of your men as a sacrifice to wake a Kraken, that he used a horn to wake it up. But it was all for naught because the Kraken battered his men and descended back into the sea’ she said.

She had heard the stories but wanted confirmation from him.

Theon slouched down not wanting to meet her gaze, he looked so afraid of her and Joanna bit down some sympathy.

‘The Iron Islands are yours, your grace’ he said with a stutter, not willing to discuss the events of his war.

She let out a cruel laugh.

‘ _Your grace,_ is that a fucking joke. Are you bending the knee to me? Cause I remember explicitly, you bending the knee to someone else’ she couldn’t fight the angry tears that threatened her face. ‘You called him your brother before you betrayed him before you killed Ser Roderik, a man who taught you how to hold a blade. You chased Bran and Rickon out and invited a monster into our house. I saw Rickon dead in Winterfell, that same monster took his life. He took my child’s life, Robb’s child.’

She yelled the last part as Theon fell to the floor, his eyes red.

‘I’m sorry!’ he pleaded.

She ignored his pleas.

‘Do you know what you did when you attacked Winterfell, you made Robb look weak. All his enemies saw a chink in his armor all because he trusted you’ she said as she wiped her wet eyes as she calmed herself down, she was acting like a child and not a queen. ‘Jeyne told me what happened to you, she said that you helped her free. She also told me what Ramsay did to you.’

She had been happy that he suffered but looking at him now, she felt indifferent. Numbness that maybe she may not hate him as much as she thought she did.

‘I am sorry Joanna’ he said. ‘I am so sorry. If you want my head, you can take it’

She felt pity for him.

He had always been crude towards her. Lustful looks that often made her cry. She never understood why father and Robb took a liking to him.

Robb had been angry when he heard of Theon’s betrayal and he even wanted his head.

But she knew Robb better than that and she had just told her betrothed that he should offer mercy. She suspected that he knew of Theon and his presence.

‘Death is far too great a mercy for you. Father would be disappointed in you and I want you to live with that, to your eternal shame’ she said.

Theon looked up from the floor and nodded before standing up.

He pulled out three scrolls and handed them to her.

‘What are these?’ she asked him as she removed the seal of a wolf sigil.

Theon stood now more resolutely.

‘Jeyne sent them to me when I docked on the ports. Sansa didn’t trust Baelish and needed a way to communicate without him knowing’ he replied. She scrunched her eyebrows at the three scrolls.

_Queen Joanna_

_Firstly I write to apologize for the perceived subterfuge. Littlefinger is a powerful man with powerful allies and he would have sniffed out my plans to try and take his life. He tried to turn you and me against each other, my sister. Like he did to my mother and her sister. The letter sent out to all the kingdoms was a ploy set by Arya and I to see if Baelish would betray us and he did. By the time you read this letter, his life would have already been taken and now we have proof for the Vale Lords so that his loyalists won’t easily abandon you when they know he plotted to cause chaos during a war along with other evidence that will now be too damning._

_I am sorry for the outing of your true parentage but I was sure you would be fine considering both you and the Dragon King are a love match. I happily await the return of the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms as we wage a war for humanity._

_Lady of Winterfell_

_Sansa Stark_

_Joanna_

_I miss you dearly and I can’t wait to see you again._

_My heart broke when I saw that you had left. Bran told us that you are an actual Targaryen and he said he saw you fly a dragon in the Reach._

_I expect a ride when you arrive. We will fight the army of the dead together side by side and we will stick them with the pointy end._

_I love you sister, now and always. You may not have my name but you have my blood._

_Arya_

_Queen Visenya Targaryen._

_The Night King and his army are approaching Eastwatch._

_Three Eyed Raven_

She released a sigh of relief when she read Sansa’s scroll, finally having the confirmation that what she did was all a ploy. She had not wanted to fight her own sister. She cried when she read Arya’s scroll and she remained puzzled when she read Bran’s. She assumed it was Bran, she knew his writing but didn’t understand why he was calling her Visenya and what he meant by Three Eyed Raven.

There was a knock at the door that indicated that they were all waiting for her.

She shouted that she was coming.

Theon stood quietly and Joanna sighed.

‘I am getting married’ she said.

He nodded respectfully.

‘You once wanted to make me your salt wife’ she said.

That got a small smile out of Theon and for some reason Joanna enjoyed seeing it. She did not care for him but there was a familiarity to that smile of her days in Winterfell.

Tyrion had asked her what Ned Stark would do yesterday.

Her father and Robb would despise what Theon did but they would want her to help him. Joanna had been faced with so much turmoil but how often had she benefited because of Ned Stark’s kindness.

She touched her belly and God’s forbid should they lose the war, that if they did then she hoped that someone would do the same for her babe. Show her the same kindness

‘I hate you with all my being Theon but I have no one to give me away. I always imagined that father would but he died and right now you are the only reminder I have of him’ she said.

It took a moment for Theon to comprehend what she was asking.

‘You want me to?’ he asked, his eyes were red.

She nodded.

Theon’s eyes flinched with tears.

‘Thank you’ he said. ‘I know what I did was wrong when I chose my family.’

‘I am not doing it for you. Despite your mistakes, you never had to choose. You are a Stark and a Greyjoy.’

She found him there dressed fully in red, with a black cloak he would place on top of her. His smile was as bright as she had ever seen it.

Joanna put a hand to her belly, feeling of happiness washing over her.

She would love him with all that she could. These are the moments she would cherish forever. Her father always told her to appreciate these moments because they would be gone in a blank of an eye.

But he was wrong in this instance because theirs was an _unblinking love._

**Daeron**

He danced with his wife. Newlyweds to all the tragedy.

In the past he had been numb to such sorrow and horror. Seeing children being nailed and bled out by evil men.

Daeron had always hated it; always hated the fact that blood was being spilled because of his ambition and what he wanted.

But he wanted a better world and the horrors he saw that week didn’t cripple him. Despite the spymaster’s intentions, despite Illyrio and his scheming.

Because now he had Joanna.

In the past he had been alone, with no one to really confide in and no one to truly understand him. Not in the way he needed them to.

He thought of the way she came to him and demanded that he pardon the pretender and let the boy fight for his right to live.

Something Ashara would have wanted but wouldn’t ask because as always she was trying to please him and Daeron did appreciate her but for him that wasn’t enough. He could never return that kind of love, it was impossibly one sided because it is predicated from the fact that she only wanted to see him pleased.

Joanna was completely different; she cared for what was best for _them._

In the days of the red waste, when he felt at his lowest. Missandei was lost to him and so was their son. All he had was the image of the mystery woman shrouded in snow.

And as he danced with her to the loud chorus of their men shouting joyously, he knew it was her.

Their wedding was the first time it had truly sunk in that all seven kingdoms had been united. Daeron thought back to the day Lady Melisandre arrived on Dragonstone with a man of the Nights Watch and the animated dead man in the box.

He had been terrified because all he wanted to do was take back his family’s seat and fix the kingdoms broken by his enemies and maybe build a home. The wight had changed everything.

But now as he danced with Joanna while Tormund wrestled with Rakharo. He felt grateful because they would have never known each other if it weren’t for that moment.

The celebrations rang on through the night and they made their exit and bid everyone goodbye.

He had decided not to indulge in the wine, a part of him was still commiserating for the lives lost and the other part of him was joining Joanna in solidarity because she could no longer consume any wine.

As they lay in bed he put his hand on her belly and gave her a sweet kiss. Their lovemaking the night of their wedding had been passionate and sating. She had looked like an angel of purity in that white and blue dress with blue roses in her hair.

He was also being gentle, much to her annoyance, because of the child. Daeron prayed that this one would survive, that she would survive and if the gods are feeling generous, he hoped that he would survive to see them all live together. He finally had a glimpse of the life he had always wanted and he didn’t want to let it go for anything whatsoever.

Dane was both hopeful and terrified for the wars to come. His anxiety had slowly been rising ever since he told her and he often had to breathe slowly to stop the looming panic attacks that threatened to swallow him whole.

‘Joanna’ he said.

He wondered if she had fallen asleep but he felt her hand brush over his cheek.

‘Dane’ she replied softly.

He liked that name, the softness in how she said it. Way different from Viserys. His brother had often used it as a pet name and he used to say it sounded similar to the greatest swordsman he had ever seen. But the name had turned cruel in his mouth though when Joanna said it, it was wholly different. And he loved it.

‘I’m scared’ he admitted.

She leaned up from his bare chest, her tuft of black curls covering her face as he wiped them away.

‘I’m scared too’ she replied.

He caressed her back and his hands drifted down to her bum, she hummed contentedly before she gave him a smile. That smile that made him weak in the knees.

Joanna barely smiled but when she did, she could light up a whole room. The smile was so breathtaking that even if he were to die, then he would die happy knowing that is the last image he saw.

‘My uncle… well my father, he used to say that fear is good. That a man can only be brave when their afraid’ she said.

He nodded in agreement to the wise words.

‘He used to say wise shit like that all the time, was very annoying’ she said in jest.

Daeron laughed.

They fell asleep as newlyweds and Daeron was happy to have his wife in his arms.

_A moon later._

The two of them stood in the dragon-pit in their regalia. A smith that Ser Davos had known, somehow managed to blend the Valyrian Steel into armor for the both of them.

Theon had gifted the both of them on their wedding night after he had taken it from his uncle.

All their armies had either sailed or marched to Eastwatch. Only the Unsullied would stay behind and watch over the city along with Viserion along with Ashara.

Davos would be acting regent in their absence of the war. The man claimed he wasn’t much of a fighter and he knew the capital better than anyone, particularly low poverty places like Flea Bottom that regularly suffered under the former rulers of the city.

Olenna would be helping him, along with Sansa Stark who was bringing those who are not able to fight down to the south.

Everyone else was already at the wall.

Tyrion had left them a week after their wedding with ships filled with gallons of wildfire. He had an idea that they build a trench and flood it with wildfire and as soon as the army arrives, they would set it off. They had been getting reports that the Kingslayer had been most ardent and effective in getting his men to work and keeping everyone marshaled and trained.

Everyone was working together and if they were to survive then perhaps they may all finally have peace.

Yesterday the two of them had gotten a letter from Bran Stark who informed them that the Night King was a week away from reaching the Wall.

The two of them had stayed behind to rule after the wildfire aftermath and decided that they would fly when the time was right.

Now as they gave Davos their final instructions, he saw Joanna absent mindedly run a hand across her armor that had covered her belly.

There was now a slight swell that Daeron had obsessed over.

He had Blackfyre strapped to his back as he looked at Aeryon and she had Longclaw strapped to her back as she looked at Rhaegal.

The two of them were draped in red and black.

‘This is it’ he said.

She smiled.

‘Aye it is’ she replied.

He turned back to look at the city. He had ruled the place for only a moon but he was starting to take a liking to it.

It felt like home.

But the reason it felt like home was because of the woman next to him.

Joanna moved from Rhaegal and took his head in her hands and leaned up and kissed him passionately.

‘I love you and you will always be my king’ she said with that Northern burr of hers. She could read his thoughts and she knew that he was wondering whether this would be the last time he may be King in the Capital.

He always underestimated how well she could read him and she could read him well.

‘Not a King, a Khal’ he corrected her assuredly. ‘I love you as well.’

She nodded with a small smile as she turned from him.

‘I think we’re going to make it’ he said.

And he knew they would.

Just like he knew he would take the iron throne.

Joanna grinned as she climbed Rhaegal. He followed suit and climbed on his mount.

‘Then we shall carry that good fortune with us for the wars to come’ she said when she was finally seated.

‘We need it because the Night King could take it from us in the blink of an eye’ she added grimly.

Daeron shook his head as he leaned down on Aeryon commanding him to take flight.

‘Impossible’ he refuted. _‘Ours is an Unblinking Love.’_

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. I always wanted to write a Fem!Jon and Male!Dany story. Huge shoutout to the other fics I read that made me interested in writing this, those are the authors you see up above and you should definitely check out their stories with regards to the gender-swap thing.
> 
> It was kind of evident that I was not going to write about the long night and initially Joanna was the only one who had a POV in this final chapter but I added Daeron as well to show you what was going to happen. Writing that whole arc is another task on it's own. 
> 
> This was fun to write as I took a break from my other and far longer stories but now I am getting back to them.   
> I will add other parts to this story as drabbles in the future.
> 
> Tell me what you thought of the story and if you liked it, check out my other stories. You may like them :D.


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